


You, Me and Him

by thankfullynotaredshirt



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Jealousy, Love Triangles, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2020-01-11 05:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18423573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankfullynotaredshirt/pseuds/thankfullynotaredshirt
Summary: After getting his heart broken by Lee, Edward - who had been wandering around town all day long - found himself at the Iceberg Lounge and is surprised to discover that his Oswald, old friend, was no longer the lonely freak he had abandoned and betrayed.In fact, Ed would now be the one that was not faring so well on his own, oh how the tables had turned.this story is set on an alternate universe post season 4 where Jeremiah didn't destroy the bridges and everyone lived their lives as peacefully as Gotham allows it





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> the plot and original character Michael came from an rp with tumblr user oml-lester, kudos to them for being so nice and letting me use the Mikey and the angsty plot.

Edward Nygma took in the exuberant surroundings of the Iceberg Lounge; the music was loud, the people were grinding against each other and shouting such obscene things that not even Ed’s brilliant brain could ever hope to come up with such colourful expressions. Cutting it short, the green-clad man was well out of his comfort zone. Yet there he was, occupying a booth by himself – unsure if the Riddler, his lean, mean and green self counted since he was some voice in his head, anyways his hallucination seemed pretty fond of sprawling himself on the cushioned couch - nursing a bottle of merlot with a frown.

  
If Ed had to admit to one thing, then it would be that time had seen him become a lesser man. Long gone was that grace of a gentleman that he seemed to emanate, at least he had had that, now he was just a klutz.

  
And an unkempt one – that was the worst part of it all.

  
For instance, his left sleeve was soaked in blood, but that blood wasn’t one that he had enjoyed spilling on his aberrantly green suit on a streak of murders. It was Narrows blood, from the lives that Lee had forced him to help save.

  
His hair was a disgrace as well; poor Edward just hadn’t seen a comb in forever, nor a non infected razor to help him keep his face baby soft, hell not even a pair of scissors could be found, and a consequence of that was the state of his hair, it had never been so long.

  
And as if that wasn’t bad enough already, his clothes stunk like piss.

  
Hell knows how he got inside the Lounge looking like that, or smelling like that, but he somehow did. And now he may be regretting having come altogether.

The drinks weren’t cheap, far from it – at least for Ed’s pocket, in which he had but a few crumpled dollar bills – but while his economic state wasn’t so fond of the digits on the price list, the man’s well educated and refined palate seemed to not mind the splurge. And it really was a splurge since Edward no longer savoured the expensive wine, just chugged at it. With the consequence of his stomach resenting it, not so pleased with the amount of alcohol imbibed.

  
From his booth in the far corner, Edward could see Oswald doing his usual check up on the clientele, ensuring that they were happy – not because his avian friend cared for their happiness, but because the happier the customers are the more money they gave him. It’s simple economics, business management 101.

  
He’s surprised to learn the aura of superiority that Oswald seemed to irradiate now. While his old friend was prim and dapper as ever, there was something off about it. Something that Edward couldn’t quite identify.

  
All the intense studying Oswald was under must have attracted his attention since it made the smaller man slowly recognise him in tiny steps – steps that he couldn’t help but study and make notes for in his head.

  1. _Studied subject notices a familiar body outline, my height and physic surely haunting him, but he brushes it off, turning back to a man whose name is unknown to me but he’s about the same height as the studied subject._
  2. _The similarities that I and well ... I share clearly bothering the individual under study, he turns once again, the tail of his coat flurrying around with the drama of the gesture. His not quite ocean blue, not quite grass green eyes narrowing as he makes an effort to try and identify me – and this straining of his vision may possibly be a sign that studied subject has been overworking himself, and his eyesight has consequently suffered from it._
  3. _I, the wise scientist who looks closely at the subject, dare to try a smile at my old friend, smile that he returns right away upon realising that I am who he was so desperate to find._



His old friend made his way towards him, leaving the man he talked to midsentence, just turning and leaving. “Edward,” he called as the simple word breaks his thought process, the elaborate report swept away from the forefront of his head as his full attention seems to be needed back down on the real world. Even the Riddler sat up, licking his lips hungrily but staying quiet for once in its tragic existence.

“Oswald.” He greeted, swallowing nervously. “I just stopped by to have a drink. I can leave if that’s what brought you here, to me.” Ed feels his heartbeat picking up pace; all this anxiety sprouting from the uncertainty of where he stood with the other man. Were they enemies still? Were they on good terms? Friends even?

Sometimes Ed really cursed himself for letting the Riddler be the flamboyant one, the confidence for days one, the one that can find hookups easily and not get called a freak.

“Oh no, not at all darling.” Oswald quickly dismissed it, taking a seat at the booth Edward occupied and scooting until he was sitting immediately next to the taller man – his stomach practically flipped at being called pet name. Oh, how he missed those sweet attentions. “Water under the bridge, no hard feelings.”

Despite believing his friend’s honest looking smile – Ed had them all categorised, knowing which to trust and which ones to flee from, and if he may add, this particular one is his personal favourite – he still had to force himself to agree: Oswald was most likely not planning a secret revenge, and why would he? His friend was faring so much better on his own; he might as well have forgotten insignificant riddle enthusiast Edward Nygma. “As you said, water under the bridge.” Edward took a sip from his glass of wine, then speaking a piece of his mind. “You look happier; life has certainly been treating you well.” Penguin practically glowed like a star that night, even if that was a chemical and physical impossibility, a silly thought he kept nonetheless.

Oswald glanced across the room, eyes landing on the gentleman from before. “It has, old friend. I am happier, and I hope it has been the same for you.”

  
“No-“ He had wanted to say, to cry out for help. Life hasn't exactly been treating him well. Ed had been living in the Narrows, where the streets reeked of piss and the population was covered in diseases and germs that made poor Edward want to run off in the opposite direction. So no, he wasn’t happy. In fact, Ed was quite bitter, that his life without Oswald had turned into a tragedy while his friend moved on without him. He was miserable. Yet, he wasn’t about to let him know that, was he? So he remained quiet.

  
“The business has been booming lately...” Oswald announced out of the blue, trailing off when he sensed movement beside him.

  
Edward scrutinised the man who dared to interrupt, recognising him as the man from earlier that night, the one that chatted with Oswald by the bar and the one that his friend kept looking at over his shoulder as they chatted. All this had Ed starting to formulate the hypothesis that maybe this man was someone important, and just as he began to gather the evidence, the man dropped himself down on to the cushioned bench and in a swift move snaked an arm around Oswald’s back.

  
Oh.

  
_This gentleman was surely Oswald’s significant other_ , Edward concluded as he witnessed the former mayor leaning into this new man’s affection and in return getting a kiss pressed on his forehead.

  
“Who’s this?” The man asked in a silky smooth purr.

  
“An old friend,” Oswald replied, gesturing for a waiter who promptly brought them a second round of merlot glasses. “His drinks are on the house.” He informed the young waiter, which made Edward let out a relieved sigh at the solution to his economic problem.

  
With that concern out of the way, Edward eyed Michael. Letting his eyes wander over the shorter man’s body, sizing him up and comparing himself to this man of tanned skin, dark eyes, silken suit with a suave smirk on his pink lips to match.

  
“Michael, this is Edward,” Oswald announced, pouring wine for the three of them. “Edward, this is my boyfriend, Michael.”

  
As suspected.

  
He ground his teeth together, feeling burning heat in his lower belly. How dare that Michael!? And how dare Oswald, moving on from loving him!? He eyed Michael with mistrust, mistrust that thankfully flew over Oswald’s head.

“My eyes on the street said that you have been seeing Leslie Thompkins.” Oswald started, with the kind of smug smile his peers back in third grade had when they discovered that he considered Pythagoras his boyfriend, and it might have given Edward some joy to know that his friend still kept his eye on him after all this time, maybe out of mistrust or maybe out of sentimentality...

Ed tried a smile for a response. He and Lee were undoubtedly not a thing. Well, there was a time when they might have been, but Ed had a great suspicion that it wasn’t more than her using him – Lee was _WAY_ out of his league for it to be genuinely believable – yet Ed fell for it and for her. Conveniently enough the insinuation that they still were a thing did make Ed look a lot less miserable, so he let his friend believe it.

Oswald simply licked his bottom lip and gave a nod for a response, looking just as bitter as Edward supposed he had had upon discovering the existence of Michael in his friend’s life, yet Ed found that hurting his friend no longer filled the void in his soul, in fact, it just dug it deeper.

Something then alarmed Michael, who sighed and moved off their booth, eyeing the office door, and with a very concerned Oswald in tow, Michael went off. Ed barely earning the goodbye he felt entitled to as the other man walked him to what looked like a management emergency at the office upstairs.

Ed helped himself to the new glass of wine, holding it elegantly before averting his eyes up to Michael, who was now upstairs with Oswald, whistling with his back to the wall watching as his boyfriend did all the work on the phone.

He couldn’t help but start to wonder what his friend could possibly see in Michael. He wasn’t more attractive than Ed – if he was allowed to flatter himself by saying so – in fact, if Edward was Oswald’s type, then Michael was undoubtedly not Oswald’s.

Michael didn’t seem to be kind, intelligent or even anything other than the kind of annoyingly cocky playboy from the rich part of Gotham, the kind that back in high school would shove his head into toilets even after he had done their homework.

Soon Oswald made his way to Edward once again, looking much more relieved. “You’re still here!” Ed wondered just how miserable he must have looked. "At least allow me to give you a ride back to the Narrows, you’re a long way away from home, and there’s no way you can walk in this state.”

Ed gave him a grunt of protest in response; of course he could still walk, his incredible intellect was still unaffected by all the alcohol he had imbibed. He did feel a warm and teeny tiny bit fuzzy feeling on his stomach zone, now that he did the assessment, his vision was also swimming, and he may be swaying. But he still drank the final drops of wine in his glass, feeling his friend’s heavy and disapproving stare.

He motioned for yet another drink, but Oswald was faster, immediately pushing his arm back down. “No more alcohol for you. I’m cutting you off.”

“That’s a terrible business model.” Ed snorted out.

“Your drinks were on me.” Oswald pointed out, a mischievous smirk on his lips as he put on his purple jacket, Michael rushing to him and helping out since his friend looked like he might topple over with the weight of the garment.

“As I said, a terrible business model.” But no one paid him attention. Instead, Oswald who was now well composed and very stable on his feet wrapped a surprisingly strong hand around his bicep and tugged at him. “Let me give you a ride back home; I’m sure Lee must be worried about your absence.”

And it was at that moment that Edward started to curse everything, why had he bragged before? Had it really been worth it to hurt Oswald, to lie to him about a girlfriend he no longer had, when all his friend did next was returning with a real boyfriend? Why had Ed drunk so much? His mouth was too loose now that the alcohol made him lose the filter between what to say and what should be kept inside, but before he could stop himself, he had already slurred out. “Have no place to go.”

“What do you mean? What happened to staying with Lee? You two seemed so perfect for each other…” He trailed off, helping to keep Ed's weakened body upright. “Can’t you just call Lee? Surely she’s got her bed ready for you.”

Ed gave in, letting his head drop against Oswald before mumbling a “She works overnights anyways…” since he had a lie to keep alive.

“Then you should come with us.” Oswald enthused, giving the back of the taller man’s head a stroke with his gloved hand. “You may have your old room back. You may spend the night with us, have some food because you look terribly skinny, have a shower, change clothes - and frankly you need those last two.”

He gulped at that, letting himself into Oswald’s space again, and then suddenly becoming aware of Michael’s presence, watching over them. He was a problem. “But you and Michael, you surely wouldn’t want me around…”

“I don’t want you sleeping on the streets, I insist. You should come with me.” With a single look from Oswald, Michael slipped his brand new phone into his pocket and did the rest of the work to keep Ed upright, with admittedly far more strength than Os could muster.

Edward could see the clientele being invited to leave by the brutes that Oswald had hired for security as he was being taken to the backseat of a luxurious car, having Oswald fussing over his seatbelt since his vision was in no shape for him to strap himself in.

He started to feel like all the alcohol in his stomach no longer belong there, with the Riddler splayed whoreishly on his lap, his evil version tried to coerce him to misbehave and be inappropriate. “You can probably calculate the odds of leaving Oswald clean were you to vomit at any moment now.”

“Not enough.” He responded in a mumble, shifting so he was leaning against the car’s door.

“Did you say anything?” Oswald asked, pushing a very affectionate Michael off him and looking at Ed concerned. “You’re not looking so good…we’ll get you in bed right away so you can rest.”

Ed sniffed, avoiding them and sulking off in his corner of the car, smooshing his head against the window. As Van Dahl’s manor, also known as Oswald’s house, came into view, he felt nostalgic, words could not describe how he missed the place, how he missed working for Oswald, how he missed the wonderful smell of the bed sheets, how he missed having Oswald’s undivided attention or how sick, disgusted and guilty those memories made him feel.

Soon he was snapped out of his deep thinking as the couple was helping his very unsteady form out of the car, it did not escape him the grunt coming from Michael’s throat “Come on beanpole,”

“It’s okay Ed, I’ll make you some soothing tea with honey while you lay down,” Oswald reassured as he aided Edward up the tricky stairs and onto the mattress, even without a clear head he did not miss how strong his friend was, despite all his injuries. That was admirable.

Once Oswald got him laying down on his old bed, he curled up there in his days old, piss soaked suit, tears blurring his sight and throat tight around a knot which made it hard for him to breath, his heart was broken, it demanded comfort and nursing back wholeness, maybe from Lee – but that was not happening anytime soon – or perhaps from someone he couldn’t quite identify.

Oswald’s hand insistently rubbed at his side, there was no denying that Edward was touch-starved and at this point, he couldn’t quite conceal the craving he had for his friend’s soothing touch. “Poor Eddie, you’re going to wake up with a terrible hangover tomorrow. I’ve brought you some water and some Advil too while the tea is still boiling.”

“Thank you.” Ed managed to croak out, the thought of Oswald leaving his side starting to upset him so much that his stomach became upset as well, images of his avian friend with some other man made him gag – or maybe it was just the alcohol finding its way out of his body. And too weak to fight the indisposition, Edward started to puke, barely managing the grace of avoiding soiling the bed sheets.

“Oh goodness!” Oswald grimaced at the disgusting display, and even if he didn’t deserve it, Oswald’s kind hand rubbed his back and eased his suffering.

Oswald called for a maid to come clean the mess and he helped the poor unsteady man up, guiding the stumbling mess to the bathroom. “Poor thing, let us get you clean. Shall we?”

Oswald helped him with the water, getting it running for him and while waiting for it to heat he checked in on him, rubbing his side and ensuring he was still alive and well. “What’s going on Eddie?”

“I shouldn’t have drunk so much.” His speech was slurred and never before had Ed felt so miserable just by being by his side. He felt diminished.

“I need you to get in that tub and not drown while I get you your clothes.” He heard, letting his body drop on the bathtub’s ledge. “I’ll be back; get in the water while I’m gone.”

And then he realised it, he wasn’t going to be on his own in the bathroom – which wasn’t that tragic, because he had to admit that at the moment he was but a hazard to himself, but at the same time, he felt so reluctant to be so exposed before his friend.

As he undid his tie his self-consciousness kicked in, the nakedness of his arms and scared torso and back enough to make him feel sick once again, they were the permanent marks of his troublesome childhood. He turned away from the mirror, his all too angular and lanky reflection making him feel anxious, focusing instead on trying to figure out what to tug at in order to undo the laces on his shoes, pulling at his fluorescent green socks next and then at his violently bright green trousers until all he had left were his black boxer shorts.

Ed climbed inside once he heard Oswald outside, running the curtain around the tub before removing the last clothes from around his body, sinking into the heavenly warm water next with something akin to a moan. “I’ve got your clothes here, Eddie,” Oswald announced his arrival. “I’ll be by so you don’t fall asleep with your head underwater. Is that alright?”

Taking his time to ensure that he was properly clean, not knowing when he’d next have the luxury of a shower, he washed his hair and body, grunting something from time to time to reassure Oswald that he was still alive.

Once the water had gone cold and his body was thoroughly washed, Ed wrapped a towel around his chest, keeping it hidden and then stepped out, Oswald immediately getting the hint, closed the accountability book that had been keeping him entertained and then left the bathroom.

A while later he came to Oswald, wearing the silky pyjama that had been chosen for him, he remembered wearing it back on his first stay in the manor and it was just as cosy as he remembered. Sometimes Ed really missed the privileges of having Oswald around, but the other man didn’t seem to need him anymore, did he now? They were on the corridor in front of Ed’s room and Oswald had the tea for him in his hand, tea that he snatched from his hand to gulp down in the hope that it settled his stomach “Thank you.”

“It’s getting late, Ed,” Oswald broke the silence. “We should sleep.”

“I’m sorry. That I made such a mess and that I worried you.” He tried a smile, smile that Oswald immediately matched with his own.

Yet Oswald wasn’t convinced yet. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve never been one for drinking so much. Is anything troubling you?”

“I fear that not even you can help, old friend.” He replied, trying to figure out a way to flee and avoid broaching the subject. “You should go to Michael; he’s probably waiting for you…”

“I can certainly try.” Oswald frowned. “Michael’s already asleep either way…”

Unsure of why he was pushing his only remaining friend away he said “Just go to him, have a good rest. Tomorrow, if your agenda agrees, we can maybe talk like in the old days.”

“I’d love that. If you get nightly cravings, then feel free to help yourself to the food in the kitchen. You surely remember where everything is…” His friend seemed to so happy for the slice of life reality they seemed to be sharing that night, no revenges, no murders. “Now go lay down, sleep that hangover off and drink plenty of water.”

Edward let himself be pulled into one of Oswald’s tight hugs, this new Oswald with far more affectionate mannerisms never ceased to amaze him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Edward.”

He unhooked himself from their embrace, turning away to his bedroom, it took him a while to fall asleep since his brain still raced to recount the events of the night.

Meanwhile, Oswald had gone to the room after Edward’s, a room that Ed hadn’t paid much attention during his arrival since the door was closed, if only Edward had paid attention then he’d have avoided the surprise the next morning. Sadly he was too drunk for any form of rational and analytical behaviour. Inside, Oswald knelt by the bed, disregarding the pain on his injured leg, his hand running over his son’s curly hair fondly before bidding the sleeping boy goodnight.

Oswald closed the door to Edward’s room on his way back, a smile on his lips as his good friend was back home, heading for his own room and slipping inside the bed and into Michael’s embrace.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the morning after Edward wakes up with (a rather scary) surprise by his bedside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyeee it's my birthday so this is what you get, gratuitous fluff, some minor angst, Ed and Edward the dog jokes.  
> I plan to give this chapter a clean up later on, right now I'm just dying to publish this chapter. I wanted to ensure that chapter 2 lived up to chapter 1's quality, but I guess I have already kept you lot waiting for a long while.

With a groan Edward unburied his head from the generous pile of feather pillows; right away he noticed that he’d fallen asleep with his glasses on, having worn them overnight and somehow managing to wake up with them intact.

The fact that he forgot to take them off says a lot about the condition that he was in last night, because if Edward Nygma could pride himself in one thing, then it is that he never just forgets anything, ever.

His head was killing him, just the sound of birds happily chirping away in nearby trees was enough to have him want to roll over and sleep his hangover off. But he forces himself, having his eyes adjust to the light in the room – which was way too bright since he had also forgotten to close the curtains – Ed noticed something, Or better said, Edward, noticed someone standing by his bed, just waiting.

So he did what any normal person does when they wake up and a child is starring at them. He screamed as loud as his lungs allowed him to, regretting it next because he was far too tired for loud noises.

With his heart still pounding from the fright he sat up, recognising the child right away, he never forgot a face in his entire life, and putting a name to the face was just as easy, ‘Martin.’

 He didn’t recall much about the boy other than what Oswald had told him: that he was an ambitious young man, that his friend could see himself in the boy, that he then took him under his wing, showing him the ropes to the criminal underworld in the hope that he had found in him the heir to his empire.

Martin greeted him with a smile, a smile that had ended up costing Edward the most expensive ice cream at the parlour on the one time that he had saved Martin from his kidnappers. What could he have done against the boy’s charming smile? Nothing.

Uncapping his black marker, Martin grabbed his pad and wrote a

            ‘ _Good morning._

_Dad told me to call you to come have breakfast with us.’_

“Morning.” He replied, after straining his eyesight to read what had been written. “Don’t worry, I’ll get ready and go meet you all downstairs,” Ed assured Martin, surprised to see the boy again. Hadn’t Oswald sent him away for his own safety? Well, he seemed to be back now, and that surely made his friend happier judging by how fond Penguin senior was of the little penguin.

Edward climbed out of bed, getting himself ready to face the day with the worst hangover of his life, once clean and clothed and in one of his old very green outfits he headed downstairs already expecting the banquet that Oswald had most likely had prepared in honour of his return. It was just a very Oswald-y thing, – Ed thought fondly, – to go overboard for those who were dear to him. Not even Ed, one of the few who could have the Penguin consider their requests, could keep him from these habits.

Edward wasn’t that hungry really, still a bit nauseated in truth, though he would for sure gladly accept some of Olga’s signature pancakes.

Just when he stepped down the first step of the magnificent wooden stairs, he noticed something he’d never noticed before in the manor, the room to his left was no longer locked. He thought that the room had never been used like many along the corridor, but then he peeked inside. It didn’t take him long to figure that it was where Martin had been sleeping, the room was so rich that it could make a royal prince jealous. Ed wished he could have been spoiled just a fraction of this by his parents, yet he shouldn’t be jealous of a child...

Eventually, he left the room, heading downstairs only to be greeted by the little family having breakfast together. Ed’s enthusiasm for returning waned, Michael was sitting to Oswald’s right. In his seat!

“Good morning, Edward.” Oswald greeted, behind a cup of warm tea and syrup-drenched pancakes.

“Good morning,” Ed replied, unsure of where to place himself, he eventually settled next to Martin, who sipped from his hot cocoa with a pose remarkably resemblant of his adoptive father’s. Michael didn’t even lift his head from the newspaper, giving only the occasional complaining hum about what he read.

“How’s the hangover?” Oswald asked with a warm smile on his lips as he had just chewed past a big forkful of pancake.

“Getting better.” He started to pour some orange juice for himself and then dug into his plate of pancakes, his stomach protesting loudly for the lack of food in the previous hours (and days). “The Advil is certainly helping.”

It was nice to have a pleasant conversation over a shared meal. It certainly was a change for Edward who growing up had always eaten in silence; scared to scrape the fork on the plate and have the noise upset his father, or that the anxious bounce of his leg would upset his father or that how fast he ate his meal to run back to the relative safety of his room would upset his father.

But with Oswald everything was so different from what he had grown used to. It didn’t even hit him that he’d developed a warped sense of family until he saw how fond Martin had gotten of his friend in such a short while. How he tried his hardest to make papa  Penguin proud and him to make Martin smile, and how they – Oswald did, Martin listened and stopped him every once in a while with a valuable contribution – happily chatted away. Edward had never had anything like that with his father.

Once the banquet was over, and the table had been cleared Edward felt a hand tugging at his sleeve, looking down he found Martin who held up his pad.

            _‘My maths homework is difficult_ :(

_Dad said you could help me.’_

Children always left Edward restless, yet he didn’t seem to mind Martin so much. “Sure sport, how about you go get it, and I’ll give you a little help.”

The pompous boy beamed at him and then graciously left the room to go pick up his homework.

“I know, I know.” Oswald started. “I should have told you but in the state you were in last night and the state the poor boy was in last night, I ended up not.”

Edward looked up from his plate, and his eyes met Oswald’s beautiful sea green ones, as he wondered what was it that he hadn’t been told about.

“He’s my son. I have finally adopted him now that it is safe.” Oswald continued as if deciphering Edward’s confusion. “I have been really meaning to do this for the longest time, with him I am not alone anymore. Never again.”

“I am happy that you took this step.” He said giving his friend a smile, he’d finally found happiness even if that meant moving on from him – which might have been a wise decision, Ed doubts he can make anyone around him happy. “Martin is a sweet boy, and he deserves a father like yourself.”

Michael let out a snort of laughter and lowered his newspaper for the first time in the duration of their meal and Edward, who did not really know the guy that much, could already tell that he was about to say something preposterous. “Did Oswald tell you about the nightmare?”

Oswald looked like he could eat Michael alive (in a bad way, not in a sensual way), his eyes bulging and his mouth pressed into a thin line. Ed may not understand social queues all that well, but he did get that the little detail was not to be announced like that over the breakfast table.

Edward looked in his friend’s eyes, silently questioning if he should ask before Oswald just sighed and gave in since it was no longer a secret and what kind of friend would the Penguin be if he did not trust his best friend. “Martin has been having some nightmares, that’s why we left during our talk and ended up having to close the Lounge early.”

Growing up Edward had had his fair share of reasons to have nightmares. Was it either school bullies or his family, they both often had had him – and sometimes _still_ have him – waking up in cold sweat, struggling to regain control of his breath and to lower the beats of his heart. He sure hoped that Martin had no such concerns; no child should have to live like that.

“ _It’s not a big deal_ , I keep telling Oswald, _the kid is only ten_ , that’s kind of normal if he’s scared of sleeping alone.” Edward just looked at Michael with his jaw dropped, is he mocking them? Is he for real? And if so, can the man not listen to what he’s saying? Or maybe just shut up altogether?

“Michael, for the last time he’s eleven!” Oswald glared at the man who just went back to his newspaper, shrugging and ignoring what had been said. Edward is starting to feel like he could punch Michael, even if there was a risk of getting beat up after.

Just when Oswald was about to start telling Michael how things were, he heard a loud screech coming from upstairs.

“Martin!” He called after him, pushing his chair back and running as fast as his bad leg would allow, Edward stood up following Oswald and coming to his aid. As soon as he’d caught up to his friend the three of them were gathered at the bottom of the stairs, Martin crouching down on the floor and holding up a bulldog with a piece of paper in his mouth.

“Oh, Edward!” Oswald scolded, getting the dog to open his mouth and plucking the ruined paper out of it.

“What did I do?!” Edward gasped his indignance and confusion.

“Not you dummy, I’m talking to the dog.”  He responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

That took a while to settle into Edward’s sometimes quite thick head “You named your dog _after me_?!” Martin picked the remains of his homework, frowning at the absurd of it. For once a dog had actually eaten a young boy’s homework.

“Martin did, I just agreed and smiled at the odd coincidence.” And then Martin took off back to the long table, Edward-the-dog following obediently after him. “Make sure you feed him now so you can take him out after.” Oswald reminded.

“Well, that was... something.” Ed laughed, walking back and giving a once over to the remains of the homework, drenched in dog drool, bitten and creased luckily the exercises written in black inked calligraphy were still readable for the most part.

Once Edward-the-dog was eating from his bowl next to Oswald’s feet, Martin was by his side, copying the salvageable maths exercises and pointing to the one that he had trouble in. Ed ( the original one) gave it some thought and then started to lead Martin the right way to achieve the solution, he didn’t just help him, just gave him a hint or two at the start, surprised to hear the boy make a hum of understanding and picking up the pencil he got to solving the problem.

“All done?” Edward asked as Martin safely hugged the paper to his chest, throwing one nasty look of suspicion to his dog before running up the stairs to put his homework away in the safety of his school bag.

“Thank you for that Ed, Martin would hate to go to school without getting his homework right, and I hate that neither Michael or I can help him that much,” Oswald admitted, picking up the bulldog and sitting him on his lap. “Oh you’re one hungry boy, are you!”

It was a strange thing to witness. His friend, The Penguin, crimelord and king of the underworld, a man described by many as cruel and vicious, cooing at a drooling dog. Ed couldn’t help a smile, only in Gotham...

“You can pet him if you want.” Oswald offered and Edward leant to give the excitable dog a scratch under his chin. “He wouldn’t bite his namesake after all.”

Edward gave huff and before he could reply to the provocation Martin was tapping Edward’s shoulder holding up his pad where he had written:

_‘Want to go for a walk?’_

He couldn’t believe what he had just read. _Really Martin, this is what I get for helping you with the homework? You making fun of me too..._ Ed had wanted to say but Oswald and Michael were already laughing heartily at the ludicrous situation,

“Martin we can’t just go around calling our guest like a puppy just because they share names.” Oswald reprimanded, but Edward doubted it had any effect on Martin since he was still chuckling.

Martin gave a gasp and his eyes went comically goggly before he shook his head no and started to correct what he had written.

            _‘Want to go for a walk?_

_ With me and Edward (the dog)’_

Oh, that changed things quite a bit. Edward looked at Martin – who was nodding furiously – before he said. ”Of course.” How could he not have said yes, the kid is adorable...

“You’re not coming Os?” Edward turned to his friend.

“I can’t go, my old friend, it’s far too much for my injuries,” Oswald explained.

“Shall we then?” Edward asked and Martin immediately jumped off his seat and with just a tap of his hand on his leg the apparently well-trained dog was following Martin to the door where he busied himself with putting on his coat.

 

* * *

 

Once outside Edward found himself walking in comfortable silence with the young boy. His thoughts were wild since there was nothing to get him out of his head, so he just thought of the events of the previous night.

How the open air seemed to be helping him recover from his hangover, or Oswald’s worried face when he had rushed to the phone in his office to talk to his son who had just woken up from a nightmare, or how Martin was lucky to have a household safe enough to bring a pet into – once when Ed was about seven he had asked if he could have a kitten since he nailed his mathematics test, the answer was no and on top of that heartbreak he was accused of having cheated on it.

Then something occurred to Edward. They were just walking down the paved road and Martin hadn’t mentioned anyplace to go. A part of him wanted to panic, to run off and never look back, to not fall into the what surely was a trap. Oswald probably hadn’t forgiven him. He surely must have used Martin’s innocence to catch him off guard.  “Where are we going?”

And Martin stopped to write:

_‘Neighbour’s lawn’_

“Why?” He asked reticently.

            ‘ _Papa said if the dog needs to use the bathroom I have to take Edward (not you) here.’_

Oh.

He sighed in relief, it really was an Oswald thing to do, and so he relaxed and chuckle when Martin smiled his very amused smile. He’s thankful the kid is not his enemy or else he’d be doomed, he sure is a dangerous weapon looking all cute but once his true face is unveiled there is a mischevious soul inside.

And as if to prove what Edward had privately thought Martin turned back to his pad, scribbling his question and then showing it to him:

            _‘Can I ask you and naughty question?’_

“That depends Martin, what exactly does the naughty question entail?” He waited for it to be written his curiosity having his gloved fingers wiggling nervously inside the pockets of his very green trousers.

Martin then turned the page and wrote:

            _‘Can we be conspirators as well?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is greatly appreciated. take care.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the drill, I had this half written since mid May and I also had a plot building up but well because complications arose, now I can't remember what I was planning (it was really good tho, like the only thing that I can remember is that it was the good cush) so at this point I'm just churning out chapters even if I have no real plot planned, but I'll figure something out hopefully.  
> oh well, I'm just stopping by to drop this chapter as it has been a while since I update and my initial plans were to post weekly (oof to that uh) but that just wasn't possible, there surely won't be any updates for a while, best case the end of June worst case the end of July as I am currently drowning in exams that I really do need to pass, so they are my priority now. As soon as I am back, then I will do my best to post regularly, but until then this fic will be "abandoned".  
> also, this chapter wasn't even re-read so mistakes will exist probably.

“Conspirators?” Edward repeated, just to ensure that he had read correctly, the back of his head busy wondering if his eyes were failing him and if he’d need a change of glasses.

Martin nodded, to his relief he had read correctly – so no ophthalmologist expenses for him so soon, which was a good thing because he was way too poor for them, - but to his concern now the young boy had his big dark eyes, still with their childish glow, fixed on him waiting for an answer...

“That depends,” Edward started, stopping his train of thought to look at the dog as he ran around the neighbour’s lawn. “Why would you need a conspirator?”

_‘To tell you things like,_

_Papa hates that you’re growing out your hair, and that you should really cut it.’_

Edward gasped, as the boy checked to see if the garden steps were dry before sitting himself on them, his bulldog immediately joining him and curling up there with a bark that surely meant that he was asking for pets.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with my hair!” He protested, frowning once Martin grimaced and he felt an urge to lock himself in the bathroom with dozens of hair products until he was sure that Oswald approved of it. “I don’t think I like this deal...”

With a sigh, Martin ripped the page away, folded it and put it away in his pocket for safe keeping, then writing on the next one.

            _‘I flunked my English test, and I don’t want Papa to find out.’_

“Oh.” He said, blinking at the situation. Growing up, Edward had never had to hide a bad grade from his father. In fact, it had always been the other way around as he’d often announce them lower than they were in the hopes that it would please his father – who probably still wished that his only son excelled in football instead.

Unfortunately for him, that was not enough, he was still thought to be cheating and asked every day as he came home why he couldn’t be like the other boys who brought home girlfriends and sports trophies and not puzzle books.

Edward didn’t know what to say so he offered help where he could. “Would you like me to try and help you to understand English?”

Martin nodded, petting Edward-the-dog – probably to avoid looking at Ed with all the shame he felt for the bad grade.

            _‘I noticed that we have a common enemy.’_

He had written it while Ed had joined him on the garden steps, his calligraphy bold and large as if he wanted to make that particular piece of information very clear.

And as if that wasn’t clear enough for Ed bellow he wrote:

_‘Michael.’_

Edward had wanted to scold the young boy, but in the end Martin got the best of him again, time and time again he seems to be able to pull it off. Though Ed’s heart wasn’t the warmest it was still a beating heart and it might have a soft spot for clever children! So he let it go, instead focusing on what Martin was writing this time.

_‘Don’t lie; I know that you don’t like him. You frown whenever you look at him. And you got a bitter pout, like you just tried your first lemon, whenever Oswald mentioned him today at breakfast.’_

Before he could say anything to defend himself and his actions, he noticed that Martin was looking at his watch and then putting away the confidential pieces of paper, urging the bulldog off his lap next in order to stand up.

“Is it time for school?” Edward asked, though the answer was obvious, finding himself following him back into Oswald’s property.

* * *

From his place standing by the door, he waited for Martin to head upstairs and retrieve his school bag; there Edward could peak into Oswald’s office, noticing the bulldog curling up on Cobblepot’s lap and him petting the creature.

Martin then ran back down the stairs, cutting to the office and immediately hugging his dad – who wished him to have a good day at school. Once that was done, the younger boy stopped in front of him, he was between the door and Martin so naturally he moved aside, not wishing for him to be late to school, but to his surprise, he just stuck out his hand with a smirk on his lips as if he silently asked _‘Do we have a deal?’_

Edward shook the boy’s hand and from his place he waved goodbye at Martin, seeing that he got safely inside the luxurious car and once the vehicle disappeared down the road Ed was alone again.

Looking around, it seemed that he had three choices to stop his loneliness:

  * He could go to Olga, the woman had always been very protective of Oswald – ever since, years ago, he, touched with the story of her life mostly because it resembled his own, single mother looking out for the safety of her offspring while living in poverty, he ensured that she had everything to provide her six children with a good life, and because Edward had been and was now once again such a big part of Oswald’s life, her protectiveness had also been extended to him. And so if he were to step into the kitchen, looking as thin as he did, Ed could very well expect the boiling borscht that would be poured down his throat as soon as he appeared in her sight.
  * Edward could also go to Michael in the living room, he could do with some information on the man, but at the same time the bitter ambience left in the room had Ed reluctant, concluding that there were better ways to get dirt on the man, after all that had been why he had partnered up with Martin in the first place.
  * Finally, the riddle enthusiast could also go to Oswald, and that by far seemed to be the most reasonable option out of the three. First Oswald was his - only – friend, second he was Oswald’s guest and he should stick close to his host, also Michael scared him and he wasn’t hungry enough for borscht.



And so having made up his mind through the useful powers of logic, he knocked on Oswald’s door, ‘ _come in,_ ’ his friend had said, pushing it lightly as to have it creak minimally and then Ed obliged, stepping inside.

Everything was more or less like he remembered, the old books still smelt old, and were all neatly tidied away by themes and in alphabetical order – a little touch that Ed had brought to the place back then – wooden floors that still smelled of wax and they made him want to remind himself countless times to not walk on that floor while only wearing socks on his feet.

And even if Oswald looked different, happier, it still made him long for the time when he was the reason why Oswald had changed, was happy. But that time had passed sadly.

“Are you not going to take a seat, my friend?” Oswald asked with a grin, his voice and amused expression bringing him back from momentary aberration, making him realise that he was just standing there, staring at his avian friend at the door to his office.

“Oh, of course. May I ask, is there any way I can help you? Or maybe you’d like me to just keep you company...” Edward offered, surprised to see him pull at the chair on his right-hand side and wordlessly invite him back to his old place.

“Absolutely, you have always been better at this than me.” He said as Edward made his way around the table, taking the seat and looking at the accounting books that Oswald reviewed.

Time passed comfortably quickly, the two sitting over the numbers and trying to figure out new business models and where to cut and where to better spend.

“Oh you should see Michael trying to figure out this, he’s very good at some things but he can’t for the life of him manage a simple addition.” His friend had commented at some point, that felt bittersweet on Edward’s part - the fact that Oswald was over him and was now amused at Michael’s little quirks and the fact that Michael could not pull off a simple sum (that should prove rather amusing for later uses). Those two points clashed and left him reduced to a mess that was trying very hard to neither pout or laugh. He wondered what Martin, a very clever boy, had to say about that though.

Oh and also that brought him back to something else...

“Oswald, I was wondering, could I borrow one of your hairdressers? My hair is far too long and I’d like to have it styled differently.” He waited for his reaction, unsurprised when his eyes grew so big that they immediately let Ed know that Martin was right.

 “Why yes, Edward, I always keep my hairdressers ready for a cut, even emergency ones. Go change into something you don’t mind getting hair on.” Oswald let him know and he turned back upstairs, wondering what his friend had meant with _emergency haircut_.

Was his hair really that bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is appreciated


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, edward is just not allowed to have nice things uh.

That night Edward could not manage to sleep. Not that he was used to sleeping like a baby - in fact he had always struggled with insomnia - but never anything like this.

  
At some point he was just lying there starring at the ceiling as his brain went back and forth, his torso wrapped with his warm but sweaty sheet and the back of his neck was sticking to the soaked pillowcase.

  
The clock downstairs struck four in the morning and Ed was still wide awake, erratically going through all the events of the day, since these days ‘erratic’ was the only speed his brain knew.

  
The previous morning had started painfully, his head throbbing from the terrible hangover he had, still he managed to crawl off bed. It was a good thing that he had done so since he had found in Martin a little conspirator - who would certainly prove to be a valuable asset later on, and certainly someone to come to whenever he’d have reasons to bitch about Michael.

  
And then after the boy left for school, Nygma went on to have a wonderful day with Oswald; the two bonded as if no time had passed and as if nothing had changed which was a big relief because Ed wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he had lost the most important person in his life to Michael and his kind’s influence.

  
Luckily for him, reconnecting with Oswald had been easy, there was some reticence at first but over tea time while they were eating, Ed bit into a too full of jam scone, only realising the mess the small explosion had caused when his friend was already laughing heartedly.

  
And as bonus he was also now sporting a new look, thanks to Oswald’s kindness - who had spared one of his hairdressers to tend to his too long hair - the wonderful result then being a hair that he could now style as he pleased, and Oswald did suggest that he tried to comb it back (always eager to please Edward did as was suggested).

  
Oh, if only Lee could see him now, dashing as a knight in shining green armour and back in the rich zone of Gotham, maybe then she would have regretted having played with his heart. Her loss, Edward hadn’t even thought of her the whole day up until that moment and he wasn’t sad anymore really.

  
Well, that may be an overstatement; he’s obviously still sad and miserable but at least Lee no longer was the reason for his feeling blue.

Actually, if Edwards over elaborate nightly explorations of his sentimental side had had him conclude one thing, it was that the riddle loving man was saddened for totally different reasons.

Often in the past hours his brain would go back to how pretty Oswald looked in his silken pyjamas, chuckling at how Edward-the-dog offered his belly so it could be rubbed – such an endearing sight that may have wished that he could be in the doggy’s place.

And he’d be filled with the same sadness he’d felt for the majority of his life, as he always felt out of place. Even now Edward still felt on the outside. Oswald had Michael and Martin had Oswald, so what was he really doing there if he served no purpose? He turned around in bed once again.

_‘Maybe you should just run away…’_

His other self whispered from the shadows, Ed couldn’t see him thankfully, but he could still hear him, that happened when he was alone for too long, maybe he should get up and get a glass of milk from the kitchen.

He recalled Oswald tucking Martin in bed earlier that night, to how fuzzy his tummy felt with all the domesticity he’d never gotten growing up, how Martin reached for his pen and pad to write

_‘Can we play tomorrow?’_

And how Oswald quickly reassured the boy that they would, ruffling his curly hair and pulling the duvet over him and his teddy bear.

With a sigh Edward rolled off his bed, not bothering with his robe or to find some shoes for his sock covered feet. He could sense his other self accompanying him to the stairs so he didn’t even bother to turn on the lights.

And that was why he slammed right into someone.

“Edward?” The man called and Ed quickly recognised the voice, it was Michael, he would always be able to recognise his fake posh accent anywhere.

“Yes it’s me.” He responded, his eyes trying to make sense out of the lack of light which wasn’t the easiest of tasks as he had also forgotten his glasses on his nightstand. “Just trying to get to the kitchen for a glass of milk, trooper.”

It felt like all the progress he had made through the years when he had to confront people he didn’t particularly like hadn’t happened at all.

It wasn’t that Michael was taller than him, or that he was more gorgeous than him, because he sure wasn’t any of those things, it was just his unnerving obnoxious confidence that made something tick off in Ed’s being and suddenly he was that strange strange forensics specialist once again, getting constantly laughed at and intimidated by men with brains the size of walnuts.

Michael snorted and pressed his palm to Edward’s chest, shoving him back when he tried to pass through. “No, I don’t think so, trooper.” The other spat, and Ed could swear he felt drops of his saliva landing on his cheeks. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a little while now.”

Sensing the hostility in his tone Ed gulped, considering his options he concluded that he had three choices:

  * He could run back to his room and lock himself there until he was sure Oswald was awake and that he was safe.
  * He could talk things out with Michael like the gentlemen that they were.
  *  Or he could scream for Oswald.



The first one seemed like the correct one at the time and so he cleared his throat and stepped back. “Not so thirsty after all, I’ll just…” Ed said awkwardly, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder and to his bedroom. “Go back…”

  
But before he could manage his escape, Michael had already captured him by the front of his pyjama shirt, dragging him like a sack of potatoes until his ugly face was millimetres away from Ed’s.

  
“Now listen here, you little freak. You’re going to listen to this whether you like it or not.”

  
Edward nodded that he’d do as told, suddenly reduced to his old coward self.

  
“Don’t think that I don’t see what you’re doing here, trying to get the kid’s love so you can go back to being Oswald’s right hand man and live of his money.

Well Oswald may not see it, but I do. I’m onto your shit.” Michael fumed, shoving the weaker man into the wooden wall before continuing “He told me of everything you did. Just because Oswald has forgiven you, it doesn’t mean that you get to ask him for haircuts and use him for his money, he may be a fool for trusting you but I am not.” He went on, “I can certainly tolerate Martin, he’s not a bad kid but I preferred it when it was just me and him you see? But you just wait until I tell Ozzie about the grade he’s gotten.”

  
Edward was going to sit through the whole confrontation in silence since it seemed to be right thing to do, aiming to avoid worsening it, but then he then he could help but to jump in to defend Martin’s honour.

  
“How do you…know about the test?” He tried, cursing himself because if Michael was just guessing then he’d have proved the other man right.

“Oswald got a call when he wasn’t home and I picked it up for him, it’s his teacher saying he handed in a bad test and she’d like to know why.” He explained, hand curling around his shirt to it made it a lot harder for Ed to breath. “Not that it should concern you, Edward. This is family business after all.”

“Don’t tell Oswald.” Ed almost begged, feeling chocked out with the tightness of the shirt pulling at his neck. “Martin doesn’t want his father to know, I’m sure you were a kid once, put yourself in his place, would you like to be ratted out?”

“I don’t like the alliance you and the kid have formed.” He said, releasing his shirt but not first without shoving him back against the wall.

  
As soon as he saw himself free of Michael’s grip, his first reaction was to flee, to gain distance between them, racing down the set of stairs in his socks.

Unfortunately for him, that day Olga had chose to wax the wooden stairs, and not accounting for that, since his only instinct was to move away, not to be mindful of the slippery wood, Edward ended up falling down the stairs.

  
The first thing to snap with a sickening crunch was his ulna and then as Ed tumbled down the steps more fractures were added, his collarbone, his skull and his big toe.

  
“Edward?” Michael called, running down the stairs to check if he was alive, he shook his shoulder but got no response. Panicking, he ran upstairs again to call Oswald, he’d know what to do surely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, ed falling off the stairs is dumb bitch solidarity. yes, I just pointed at mr. reference skeleton on google and went, uhm lets break this one and this one and this one. no, I have no idea what the heck I'm doing.  
> anywaysss  
> feedback is appreciated.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof sorry Ed xd love you ,, you dumbass man uwu

Martin woke up earlier than usual that morning, it was around nine when he’d finally finished arranging his bow tie around his neck and when he’d set down the stairs to go eat breakfast with his dad.

Oswald would always wake up early, and not always because he’d work, sometimes he’d sit on the breakfast table reading the newspaper as he waited for him and Michael to wake up. He supposes this must be his peaceful and quiet time, when he’d prepare for his tiring day.

Holding the rail to the slippery stairs Martin hopped down the last couple of steps, hoping that the sound of his jumping would be enough to alert Oswald that he was up, as he didn’t want to scare his dad again.

Once he was at the long table he noticed that Oswald seemed to be gathering his porcelain tea set on a tray, there were the most wonderful of biscuits on the bowl and at the moment he was pouring tea on one of the cups.

Martin watched his Papa putting together the tray carefully, inspecting the scene from the door. It was quite odd that Oswald was using the good service sets on a Saturday at nine in the morning, for all he knew there were no guests coming over, apart from Edward. Maybe he was treating Michael to breakfast in bed but that was far too strange, Martin could always hear the two of them bickering over crumbs on the bed.

So why was it that Oswald had personally and so carefully put together a breakfast in his finest tea cups and cutlery? If it wasn’t for Michael or for Martin nor for any guests then it could only be for Ed. And if that was true, what was the occasion?

“Oh my boy, you’re up early.” Oswald said and Martin let himself be hugged, wrapping his arms over Oswald’s shoulders until his dad – who seemed so tired – pulled away. “Did you sleep fine?”

Martin nodded, though there had been a strange noise over night, like a big cat falling down the stairs, and then low murmurs followed. Despite that part he’d slept alright.

“I had the most wretched night Martin, come with me will you?” Os started, picking up the tray and setting out for the stairs with him close behind. Martin wanted to ask what had happened but he’d left his pad upstairs hoping that he and Oswald could continue learning sign language.

Oswald used his shoulder to push the door open and then sat the tray on the night stand, fussing over how Edward had managed to untuck himself from under the blankets while he’d been away.

Still with more questions in his head rather than answers, Martin’s eyes landed on Edward’s sleeping body, his head wrapped in slightly bloodied gauze, his left arm on a green sling and covered in a cast.

Though Oswald was only getting started with ASL he had enough knowledge to understand what he meant so he signed ‘ _What happened_ ’.

“Poor thing fell down the stairs, slipped in his socks when he was getting a glass of milk, Eddie was lucky Michael was still downstairs watching one of his man vs. nature documentaries so he was there to call for help.” Oswald said, hand combing through some Edward’s stray curls.

The boy, sitting on his heels on the side of the bed, keeps studying Ed curiously, watching how he both cowered and but leant into Oswald’s touch simultaneously.

At this point the man was already more awake than before, though he was clearly not entirely lucid, certainly due to all the medication to help with the pain.

“My head hurts.” He said groggily, raising his good hand to give his forehead a rub. “What happened, why are you two staring at me?”

“The doctors said you’d come to it about this time, so I figured I’d bring you breakfast.” Oswald started, helping Edward to sit up, supporting his back on the soft pillows and then placing the tray on his lap.

Tea, biscuits, toast with jam, boxes of painkillers. Oswald really had put his heart to it.

Edward blinked at it, reaction-less.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Oswald asked “Anything at all? You did hit your brilliant head quite hard on the steps didn’t you old friend?”

Ed was still slow but he still managed a response. “I fell down the stairs. I broke my bones?”

“Yes my darling, you broke your head, your collarbone, your arm and your big toe. Quite the list...” Oswald said, reaching out to fix Edward’s curls that had gotten stuck under the white bandage. “Are you in pain right now? Eat something so you don’t take your painkillers on an empty stomach.”

The man seemed to consider it, taking a bite of one of the biscuits Olga had baked and humming at the pleasant lemony taste in them. Olga sure did make the best biscuits in the world.

And then as he is halfway through devouring his second toast something comes to him, and it seems to startle him, he keeps looking down at his clothes but there’s nothing wrong with them.

“Is everything alright, darling?” Oswald asked, watching over Ed like he required every second of his attention.

* * *

 

The last thing he recalls is the nasty sound the bones made as they crushed and as he tumbled down the stairs, and the first thing he felt was pain everywhere. His head hurts, his chest hurts, his arm hurts, even his god forsaken toe hurts!

The next thing he felt was a soft hand running over his hair as someone shifted their weight on the mattress. “Shush” The male voice said, “Rest more Eddie, you’re far too tired.”

The voice feels warm and inviting, he lets himself be petted, a weak smile formed on his lips, and then he’s asleep again, not because he had been told to do so but rather because he just could not resist the exhaustion.

Hours later Ed wakes up once again, he groans and looks around, his eyes landing on Oswald who laid close to him, he looked like he had just passed out there, like he had been fighting sleep but in the end it got the better of him.

Ed shifted only a bit and the next thing Oswald was sitting up, rubbing his face with one hand as with the other he pulled the green comforter back up to Eddie’s shoulders. “You’re up.” He said sleepily.

Edward was about to open his mouth to say something but Oswald was quicker, “Let me fix you breakfast.” He placed his hand over Edward’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and then left the room, leaving him to wonder what was going on. But not for long as he was already exhausted so he was passed out again seconds later.

Then he wakes up again when the floorboards creak by his room, and Oswald is at his door with a full tray on his hands and little Martin behind him.

The tray is set on his nightstand and all the sudden Oswald is tucking him in under the woolen blanket, grumbling about how he’d keep moving and throwing the covers away.

Now Ed was very sleepy, he was pretty sure he was swaying or at least his vision was doing that for him but he could see Martin signing a ‘what happened’.

One time when Ed was hiding in his bedroom from his dad, he started going through all the books that he’d taken from the library,an ASL manual happened to be one of them. And he’d devour the books he’d borrowed until it was time for dinner and he’d have to cook a meal for his drunk father. That was when he’d developed his cooking and built up most of the vocabulary for the languages he could speak.

He felt himself watched, Martin’s dark eyes fixed on him as they surely assessed his injuries just from what he could see, his head wrapped in gauze and his left arm encased in a cast supported by the prettiest of green arm slings

And then Oswald said something that made Ed frown, even if Os was so tenderly stroking the curls on his forehead “Poor thing fell down the stairs, slipping in his socks when he was getting a glass of milk, Eddie was lucky Michael was still downstairs, watching one of his man vs. Nature documentaries so he was there to call for help.”

That wasn’t entirely truthful, sure that those were facts, he had indeed fallen down the stairs, slipped in his socks, while getting a glass of milk,sure that Michael may have saved him and that he had been watching downstairs whatever television pleased him. But there were something things that Ed’s version of events could add to it...

It was apparent that Michael had omitted _the fight_ , and if he had been in Michael’s place he would have done so as well. However even if he pleased the idea of screwing his enemy over, he still didn’t have the guts to break Oswald’s heart.

Or to casually include into the conversation just how little Michael seemed to think of Oswald’s favourite people. And how he had been so roughly treated, and threatened as well as his son had been. Or that the reason why Ed had fallen was because he was trying to break free from Michael.

The indignation awakened him like a slap to the face yet Ed was still quiet, sure he was still a bit dopey from the drugs but at least his eyes didn’t feel like a they were about to force themselves closed again.

“My head hurts.” Ed said his throat hurting just from the strain of forming words, from having just wakened up. He felt his head pounding, moving one hand to rub his head only to find it wrapped in silky cloth. Oh. “What happened, why are you staring at me?”

“The doctors said you’d come to it about this time, so I figured I’d bring you breakfast.” Oswald immediately moved to sit him up, arms going under his armpits and hoisting him to a sitting position like he was a sack of potatoes and then settling him against the soft pillows, helping a tray on his lap which contained more of the little treats that he’d missed from his time there.

Tea to drink from one of his finest set of teacup; Olga’s delicious lemony biscuits piled in a crystal bowl; his toast had the crusts cut out and the jam was spread evenly through the whole area (just like Ed loved); and finally several boxes of painkillers.

It was easy to see that the Penguin had put his heart to preparing the meal, just as Ed feared he would – always so ready to do everything for those he considered were close, sometimes he’d worry for his friend for that reason, how he’d let his heart be the one to decide for him.

He was still starring at the tray when he heard Oswald say “Do you remember what happened last night? Anything at all? You did hit your brilliant head quite hard on the steps didn’t you, old friend?”

Slowly Ed started putting words together to form a coherent sentence “I fell down the stairs, did I break bones?”

“Yes my darling, you broke your head, your collarbone, your arm and your big toe. Quite the list...” Oswald announced as Ed shifted a bit in bed as if he was doing a diagnosis his friend’s soothing touch came to comb his hair in place, which surely must have been in disarray since something had been wrapped around his head “Are you in pain right now? Eat something so you don’t take your painkillers on an empty stomach.”

Ed considered it for a couple of seconds before giving in, even if he was still queasy he didn’t want to worry Oswald, nibbling into the delicious lemon biscuit and humming at how tasty it was.

Halfway through devouring his second toast coated in red berries jam it hits him, his clothes!

They weren’t the same from the day before, a dark plain t-shirt replaced his green plaid top, thicker pyjamas pants covered his legs instead. Which meant that whoever had dressed him was now aware of his little secret, of the scars spread all over his body.

“Is everything alright, darling?” Oswald asked, snapping him out of his headspace, he stared at his friend wide eyed like a dear in headlights. How was he supposed to say what worried him now? Had Oswald been the one to undress him, or had it been someone who worked for him? Though he was pleased with the idea of Oswald undressing him and kissing his forehead and holding his body, what he didn’t want was to have to share his secret, not unless he was cornered.

“Within what’s possible...” He mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes tiredly and then Martin tapped his shoulder, as soon as the boy got his attention he signed the question. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Green.” He said, taking a gulp of his tea as the little boy ran off to his bedroom, returning with a fistful of green markers.

“May we sign it, Eddie?” Oswald asked, gesturing at the clean white cast.

Edward unhooked his arm from the green sling and presented it to them so they could sign his cast. It was the first time that he had friends to sign his arm cast! He sat still, offering his arm and watching as they wrote their names in different shades of green and before it would occur to Oswald to ask Michael to sign it as well Ed started to doodle green question marks all over the cast until there was no space left.

Some hours later Ed was finally awake again, he yawned and peeked over to see Oswald dressing up Martin neatly, combing his hair, fixing his tie, tying his shoes properly.

“Are you ready, Martin?” He heard Oswald ask. “It’s your first playdate...” Oswald started. “If you don’t feel so good in her house call me and I’ll go pick you up.”

Then he heard Michael chuckling and dismissively saying, “Come on Oswald, stop being such a mother hen, of course he’s not going to need you to pick him up, just let the kid have fun.”

“Let’s just check in on Eddie and see how he’s doing so I can go drop Martin at the limo.” Oswald said pushing the door to Edward’s room open. “Oh you’re up!”

“Michael, watch over Eddie for me alright dearest?” Oswald asked, giving his lips a kiss – that made Ed gag just from watching – and then saying. “My hero.”

Hero!?

Hero his ass!

Edward laid back down, still trying to push away the nauseous feeling and he just stared at Michael and his dumb face, how could Oswald like _that_?!

And then they were alone, Oswald having gone downstairs to see that his son was safely tucked under a seat belt and with two bodyguards just for extra safety.

“So poor thing fell down the stairs...” Michael started and Ed could picture his fake accent dripping with poison. “Did you do that to make me feel bad for pushing you? Or was it because your clumsy body was too scared of little old me?” He sat on the bed, grabbing Edward’s broken arm by the wrist and he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from screaming in pain. “Did you like my version of events? The trick is to base it off the truth, and you know my Ozzie believed me! He’s been drooling over hero me like Edward the pupster when there’s ham for dinner. But there’s a chance Os will believe you too, so allow me to propose a deal. I say nothing about Martin’s little fail in English and you don’t tell on me. Because I’d still like to be Oswald’s good boy, you see?” And then he twisted his arm by the wrist that snapped right away just from how fragile it was. “Do we understand each other?”

Ed was quick to nod, clutching his arm with his good hand and biting his pillow to keep himself from screaming.

Some five good minutes later Oswald returned back inside and then Michael began his hero act before his boyfriend.

“Oswald call the doctors again, I don’t... I was just going to pick up a blanket for him because I assumed that he’d be cold from being so still and then he must have wanted water and he reached for it and ended up falling off bed onto his arm and I think it broke! I feel so bad!”

And then Edward blacked out again, the pain was way too much to stay awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is appreciated! :)


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've injured my wrist while writing this isn't' that hilarious?

When Ed woke up again Oswald sitting by his side, leaning over him and busying himself with adjusting the bandages that wrapped around his broken skull, he tucked the loose end in and then rolled up the bloodied old ones, pushing them aside.

And there he lay, with his friend on top of him, attempting to blink the fuzziness in his sight away.

“Oh you’re awake.” Oswald pointed out, smile on his lips as he moved away with a sigh. “How are you feeling, old friend?”

Edward thought for a second, trying to assess his health state before simply stating “Tired.”

“Does anything hurt?” His friend asked, staring at him with the bluest-greenest eyes that he’d ever seen, even if he couldn’t quite see well because he couldn’t find his glasses.

And even if he despised the discomfort of eye contact, he would always make an effort for Oswald, not only because he was his only friend but also because the person he starred at had the prettiest eyes – far prettier than Isabella’s and Kristen’s hazel eyes and far more fascinating than Lee’s dark ones.

Oswald was clearly worried, under his eyes were darkened curves, a sign that he hadn’t slept and that at this point he just lacked the energy to cover them up with make-up.

And so in order to avoid worrying his friend further, even if his wrist was pained and swollen, Ed said he was alright, it was just a small lie and he’d feel better if he wasn’t concerning the raven haired man.

After some moments of worried silence and some others of consideration Edward patted the mattress, wiggling about until Oswald had enough space to lie down with him.

“Eddie, you know I can’t, I must look after you.” Oswald said, fond smile on his lips and eyes half-lidded, eventually it became apparent that he was attempting to stifle a yawn.

Of course that Edward being himself he wasn’t about to let things be like that. “When was the last that you slept?” Edward asked. Can’t Oswald tell that his health is already fragile? He should be spared from these stresses and Ed is going to take good care of him, even in his limited condition.

Oswald remained silent, a silence that Ed immediately took as a no. “Yeah as I thought, so let’s make this arrangement, I sleep now so you know that I’m not causing you, me or any others any _troubles_ and you in return stay here so I know that you’ll sleep and not go off to fix me medicine or more soup or whatever you think that I need.”

His friend actually considered it for once, then setting himself beside Edward’s right side – the one that wasn’t broken – and then propped his head on Edward’s shoulder.

Sure Edward was a bit shocked at the boldness, in the end he concluded that it should be what Oswald finds to be the most comfortable way to sleep, but deep down he really didn’t mind all the touching.

He can bet that Os does this everyday with Michael in bed (that is when he’s not doing other _things_ with him, like those _things_ that make Ed gag just from picturing the two of them doing _that_ ) - so if Ozzie trusts him enough to let Ed hold him close then he must have scored a point on the match against his newly acquired enemy.

Michael: 2

Edward: 1

When Oswald’s breathing slowed down it was safe to assume that he was in the land of dreams. He pulled one of the silky soft blankets over the two of them and ensured that his friend was properly covered.

Once that was out of the way he got to trying to move Oswald’s hand from laying heavily over his biggest and most repulsive stomach gash, quite the aim Oswald had… It would hurt him when he’d breath out and his tummy would rise and his friend’s hand would press against it, making it sting and making him want to scream. To fix that he delicately looped the fingers from his cast-wrapped-hand under his best friend’s and moved it to a clearer area. Except that when he tried to let go he discovered that Oswald had started to hold his hand.

It takes him a moment or two to grow accustomed to the feeling, normally he despises being touched but for the moment he can tolerate it.

Edward looked down at his friend fondly, watching how serene he looked in his sleep, daring to run a finger of his free hand over his cheek to see just how soft his skin was and next over his nose to see how pointy it was. It thrilled him that Ozzie could awaken at any time and find out that Ed was being weird again. Yet he adored the risk.

And then he closed his eyes, laying there with his hyperactive brain still ticking. He could hear Oswald breathing, his nose below his ear as it dug into his neck and his mouth pressed to the crook of his shoulder, almost like he was kissing it.

Ed found that his breathing was far too quick in comparison to his friend’s one, attempting to slow it down, trying to match it, and it’s in the middle of this exercise that he hears the wooden floor outside creaking.

“Ozzie dear?” Michael called, stopping by the door and Edward barely had time to react, trying to decide if it would be better for him to remain with his eyes closed.

On the one hand he’d be keeping an eye on Michael, ensuring that he wasn’t going to break another of Ed’s bones while he was ‘asleep’. However if he kept them open he’d get to bask in the glory of having another man’s man in his arms. Oh it would be so delicious to just watch as the anger boiled inside his rival’s body. If Eddie was lucky enough then all the anger would result in his heart having a cardiac arrest and then him dropping dead on the floor.

Yet, in all truthiness Ed feared Michael and what he was capable of doing out of pettiness. Maybe he should just close his eyes and hope that the other man believes that they had just drifted towards each other in their sleep, they are such good friends after all…

“Ozzie sweetiepie, can you tie my tie that way you know I like?” Michael asked stepping inside the room and frowning when Oswald didn’t respond to him. While that happened, Ed hid face very carefully under his friend’s, trying to remain covered from that angle. “Are you asleep?”

Sadly Ed could only fight the temptation for so long and so he gave in and announced “He’s asleep.” And as he said this, Oswald moved to snuggle closer, grunting and then making himself comfortable again.

Michael glared at him, shaking his head and gritting his teeth.

Oh wasn’t that just wonderful!

Michael: 2

Edward: 2

And then poor Oswald woke up again, rolling off Ed and asking “What do you want, Michael?”

“I need you to tie my tie.” Michael said with a little pout on his lips, blue tie hanging over his shoulders, waiting to be put on. Edward wished he could get off his bed and put it on Michael himself and then use it to choke him, watching as the life was drained slowly from his eyes. Or even better, he wished that he could ‘accidentally’ push him down the stairs.

What was it that they said?

Oh yes.

A tit for a tat.

“Where are you going?” Oswald inquired, sitting up and Edward followed him because he should be ready to stop Oswald from tiring himself out because of this man.

“Have a drink at William’s house.” He said quickly, using his reflection to try and comb his greasy dark hair.

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time you took a tie when you were out drinking? Alcohol stains are terribly hard to have removed and I buy you only the best silken ties.” Oswald reminded, patting the end of the bed for his boyfriend to sit on and then getting on with the tying.

Now it was Edward’s turn to grit his teeth and shake his head, the damned idiot had gotten what he wanted!

Michael was back in the lead now…

Michael: 3

Edward: 2

“Great!” Michael cheered, quickly pushing himself up and getting off bed, straightening his tie. “I’ll be off, I’m quite late…” And then he kissed Oswald with his dirty dirty liar lips and went off.

Obviously Ed is very annoyed that he has managed to deprive Os from his well-deserved sleep and to deprive Ed of his time with Oswald, it’s almost like the little devil knew exactly what he was doing…

His friend sighed and laid back down, starring at the ceiling and since the shorter man wasn’t going to fill the silence he took the opportunity. “Why did you fix it for him if you were tired?” He queried, laying back down so he could see what exactly Oswald’s reaction was.

Maybe Os hated Michael too and was just with him because. No that would be too good to be true…

“I don’t get it…” Oswald mumbled.

“The tie.” He clarified, starring right at Oswald so he’d know that he wasn’t going to drop the subject. “You didn’t and still don’t have to do everything for him.”

“Oh Eddie, I have to, he’s my boyfriend after all. I don’t want him to think that since I’m a criminal overnight that it means that I am an uncaring boyfriend over daytime” He pointed out, sighing and returning to their original positions, hand over Ed’s belly and head slotting itself on the crook of his neck, his breath tickling the sensitive skin.

“You don’t understand it Eddie, if I don’t spoil him at all times then he’ll see just how horrible I really am and then he’ll want to leave…”

“Oh Oswald…” Ed sighed and stroked his friend’s raven coloured hair. “From my very limited experience, I can tell you that you don’t have to cater to their every whim. Sure it’s nice to feel spoiled but-…”

“Nonsense Eddie, I want my boyfriend to know that he can count on me.” Os brushed off, looking up at his friend.

“And he can still count on you, just don’t exhaust yourself Ozzie, your health is already so fragile.” Ed feared that he may be treading on eggshells with what he’d just said but to his relief Oswald just laughs.

“Oh my dear Eddie, ever so careful, I promise that I’m not exhausting myself, though I have to admit to being in the need for a rest.” Ed smiled at that, it was progress after all, especially with such a stubborn man. “But you don’t get to worry about me until I’m sure that your bones recover properly.”

And so Ed dropped the subject, he could already tell that with his friend’s stubbornness he wasn’t going far, not to mention that the pain medicine was starting to make him feel very sleepy again.

Soon he was unconscious again, dreaming about a successful heist with Oswald and about holding Oswald close, nose tickled by his hair when he’d place his chin over the shorter man’s head, the scent of his shampoo filling his nostrils, then Oswald pulling away and with a proud grin on his lips kissing Edward.

Wait what.

Oh

OH!

He’s kissing him!

Why is he kissing Ed?

Uh oh…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated, thank you for reading.


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martin: *is eleven*  
> me: a bebe :3

Seconds later Edward woke up with a jolt, rubbing the sleep of his eyes with the back of his hand, and even if he didn’t mean to he didn’t mean to he ended up waking up his friend with all the movements, and there he was, by his side, grunting until he was fully awake and worried for Ed.

“Eddie dear, did you have a nightmare?” He asked, leaning over him and fussing with the sweaty curls that fell on his forehead. For sure his friend was no stranger to nightmares, but what Edward had just woken up from hadn’t been exactly a nightmare…

“You may put it like that…” He mumbled. The more Ed delved into it the more it concerned him, Oswald kissing him! As if the emperor of the criminal world of Gotham would kiss a vermin like Ed… Sure he was used to dreaming of the strangest things, that’s how he’d gotten the inspiration for the most of his riddles but this had been a first time!

“Do you want to talk about it?” Oswald offered. “You don’t have to but if you want to…”

“Oh dear…no!” Edward was quick to say, words slipping from his mouth rather than being carefully chosen by his brain, the speed that he’d responded with had surely left Oswald suspicious “it was nothing of importance, like when you dream of falling into a dark abyss, just a startle, nothing else.” He lied.

Of course it hadn’t been just that, it was something far more complex that just a fright. Something his very clever brain had produced in his sleep had for some strange reason decided to have his best friend kiss him. And was that a sign? Hopefully no, but then a dream is hardly ever dreamed without a reason behind it. Or maybe it was just his evil self attempting to rekindle the affection that he had once felt for Oswald – before everything.

“I understand Eddie, lay down again now old friend, your body could use the rest in order to better recover.” Oswald advised, running his delicate pale fingers over Ed’s cheek. And the younger man did as he was told.

* * *

 Once Ed returned from the land of dreams he is immediately greeted with the sight of Oswald and Martin by his side – the first reading a romance from that month’s bestsellers and the youngest of them playing with car miniatures.

“Oh, you’re awake darling.” He said, putting down his book and starting to shift closer to Ed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better…” Ed responded, rubbing his eyes and slowly sitting up, his ribs protesting against that movement.

“I brought you Martin, the two of us ought to cheer you up.” Then Martin uncapped his black marker and wrote, “When I’m sick Papa always lets me stay in bed watching cartoon and drinking hot cocoa. Would you like that?”

“That sound wonderful.” Edward said, starting to make room so Martin could squeeze in between the two of them, sharing his blanket with his two friend so wouldn’t be cold, it wasn’t exactly a sunny day outside and he wouldn’t want to deprive them of the comfort he had.

So they got busy, Martin took care of the tv that had been placed by the end of the bed so Edward wouldn’t bore himself to death while recovering and Oswald had Olga prepare hot cocoa for the three of them – with tons of whipped cream, Martin asked.

With their warm drinks in hand they got comfortable watching silly cartoon, Oswald close to Ed’s body while Martin kept changing places, either on Oswald’s lap or on Edward’s or sitting between them and then later on at the end of the bed, very focused on the television. However fun the cartoons were the Penguin had been asleep for well over half an hour, head leaning against Edward’s shoulder, occasionally shifting so he could curl closer to him.

Without knowing what to do Ed adjusted himself to welcome Oswald and all the movement had Martin turning to check if they were still watching his cartoons. He is however surprised to find his dad snuggling close another man that is not his boyfriend and find said not boyfriend trying his best to awkwardly accommodate him.

“Papa has a boyfriend, do you not know?” Martin wrote, deciding to tease Ed just a little bit, surprised with the result that his new friend was blushing and goofily wide eyed.

“Yes I do know, I was merely and platonically holding my very much not single friend that is a boy and a friend but not a boyfriend.” Ed rambled, growing more and more concerned with Martin’s little amused smirk.

“I am happy that you and Papa still get along so well, if you ask me, I would rather he be with you than with Michael… He does not like you so much…” Martin wrote; ripping out the first page and storing it in his pocket.

“Yes, I am aware that Oswald fancied me, but that was a long time ago and your dad is with someone else now.” Edward said quietly, watching over his sleeping friend just in case.

At that Martin frowned, ripping out yet another page and putting it away only to try once again. “What do you make of dad’s ‘ _somebody else’_?”

“Michael you mean…” Ed started, lowering his voice further as precaution. “What exactly do you want to hear, what I think of him…?”

At that the boy nodded eagerly, adding with his pad. “If you want I can even let you in on what I’ve heard Michael say to his friend William on the phone about you.”

Ed smirked - even if non intentionally – he was glad to finally talk to someone who disliked his enemy just as much as he did. He and Martin made quite the team! “Where can I start? I dislike his fake accent greatly can he not tell that everyone can tell that he is not from Britain? I don’t like how cocky he is too! His voice is so annoying and it makes my inside hurt, I HATE that Oswald sees something – even if I can’t tell exactly what – in him that is not repulsive! His attitude is demanding and Oswald is so lost in Michael’s big dark eyes to actually see that he doesn’t have to cater to every single on his whims to be a good person and a good human being.” Ed vented, still keeping an eye on Oswald to ensure that the man was still asleep and wasn’t listening to anything that had been said.

“Yesterday I heard him say on the pone that he’d finally managed to teach his ‘green bean tenant’ some manners and that after he was done with you you would learn that everyone is fooled by a pretty face like Papa is.” Martin wrote with a frown. “What exactly does he mean?” He added.

Edward sighed and then whispered “Two days ago, when I couldn’t sleep late at night, I ran into Michael on the stairs and he threatened me and us and treated me quite roughly and when I tried to run from him I ended up falling and this happened.” He gestured at himself.

“Did he push you down the stairs?” Martin wrote down? “What do you mean with ‘threatened us’?”

“He didn’t push me down the stairs, that was me trying to run from him, but he did shove me and grab me by my shirt…” Edward started, trying to recount the events of the night. “He doesn’t like our little alliance; he thinks that I’m using you to get to Oswald and his money. And I do see his point – for someone who can’t even manage a simple sum, as Oswald informed me of recently, I’m surprised he even thought of it – he feels threatened by me. And to be honest, I would have been too if I was I his place and Michael was trying to steal my boyfriend.”

“And you’re not trying to steal his boyfriend?” Martin wrote.

At that Ed started recalling the dream he had had the previous night, Oswald kissing him and how perfect it had all felt. Starting to shake his head with his cheek already burning pink with embarrassment he rushed to spit out a “Pfft, of course not!”

Martin chuckled and wrote an “…Alright, alright…” before changing pages and continuing with “What did he threaten us with?”

“He expects me to stop trying to steal Oswald away by sing you or else he’ll tell Oswald about your grade.” Ed grinned as it hit him. “Maybe that because Michael fears that I’m better suited to take his position. He feels threatened. So I got off with a warning, though the whole falling down the stairs was unnecessary…”

“How did he find out?” Martin asked, his brows furrowed and his lips pouting as he wrote down his question.

“He picked up the phone when your teacher was trying to call your dad.”

At that moment they heard Michael outside, and Martin rushed to hide what he’d written while the other man walked into the room, going to Oswald’s side and shaking his shoulder he cooed. “Ozzie, you’ve got to wake up, it’s almost time for our dinner reservation.”

Ed’s first reaction was to back up, fearing hat Michael would attack him. In fact, he only relaxed when Oswald was already rubbing his eyes and promising that he’d be ready in a minute, climbing off bed and heading for his room, followed closely by his boyfriend.

“It seems that today is date night.” Ed commented.

“It does.” Martin wrote, moving to Oswald’s previous place. “And how does that make you feel?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Edward queried, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I’m just asking.” Martin wrote, trying to encourage Ed with “But I don’t like it, not one bit…”

“And why is that?” Edward tried pressing in the hope of getting some information from him.

“Michael isn’t the ideal boyfriend for dad, far too self-centered. Sure he’s protective of dad and undoubtedly in love with him, but the condition that dad found him in – kicked out from his rich parent’s house – makes me believe that he’s in for the safety that he provides rather than attraction.” He sighed and then grabbed a pudding cup from Edward’s tray, eating it as with his free hand he wrote. “I just want Papa to be happy.”

“Me too Martin, but if he chose to be with Michael then he must make him happy.” He pointed out quietly, since he could hear his friend outside the room.

“Or maybe he doesn’t want to be lonely anymore.” Martin sat eating his pudding. “Maybe dad just wants company; he missed you for so long that he could just accept anyone who was willing to show him some affection.”

“What do you know about Michael.” Ed tried.

“I asked you something else first, I want to know how you feel about the date.” Martin wrote, finishing his pudding and putting it away before returning to bed and laying on his tummy, arms supporting his head and legs kicking the air as he waited for _story time_.

“I didn’t tell you but yesterday he came to my room, telling me to not dare to think about telling Oswald what he’d done or else he’d tell your dad about your grade and then when he broke my wrist.” Ed revealed.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Your dad is with Michael what does it matter how I feel...” Edward said with a shrug.

“You’re still not answering!” Martin wrote.

“Okay alright, I admit it. I feel the same as you. Michael is an idiot and he doesn’t deserve Oswald for what he’s doing to his friend and to his son.” Edward admitted very quietly.

“Oh it’s going to be stormy outside.” Oswald pointed out. “Don’t forget a jacket…” He shouted, approaching the window and looking outside at the grey sky. “Might thunder too…”

Martin whined and went to Oswald, holding him and quietly asking him to not go, especially if there was a storm outside and there was going to be thunder.

“You’ll be with Edward.” Oswald tried to reassure him, pulling the boy into a hug as his other hand played with his curly hair.

“Don’t tell me the boy is scared of the storm.” Michael chimed in, putting on his jacket. “He’s ten, isn’t he too grown up for this?”

“Martin is eleven and has every right to be scared of the storm.” He said. “You can stay with Ed, the two of you ought to have fun right, you can watch cartoons and have ice cream waffles for dinner.”

“Come on Oswald let’s go. We have a dinner reservation.” Michael pressured.

Oswald kissed the boy’s head and then left the room, not first without saying. “Ask Ed to call me if you need anything, we’ll be back by ten.”

Martin frowned but went to sit by Edward, feeling like a kicked puppy because Michael had won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies, i know i said that i'd update more often but with my newly adopted kitten and uni starting i barely have the time.  
> comments are wonderful and I would appreciate them, thank you for reading.


	8. 8

By nine Edward started making his way down the damned staircase, hand gripping the handrail so tight that his knuckles had gone white, not only because he had learnt his lesson but also because he actually needed its help to get to the ground floor. At least Martin had been there to call for help, but luckily for Ed that wasn’t needed since he’d managed to get himself to the kitchen

The big windows allowed them to see the trees in the vast backyard and their branches and leaves dancing with the whistling and howling wind. It was fascinating to watch, but it also made Ed wonder if Oswald was okay – wherever he was. It also made him feel grateful for having been taken in into his friend’s house, who knows where he’d be if Oswald hadn’t saved him, possibly dying of pneumonia in a dark alley by the trashcans…

The two of them cooked their dinner using one of the Van Dahl’s family cookbooks, Martin standing on a kitchen bench to help him cook and reach the cabinets – it made Ed wonder who exactly would reach for the supplies in the cabinets in this house: no one was tall enough, Martin was still too tiny, Oswald was too short and Michael too short as well. What kind of boyfriend does that make him? A lousy one! What’s next? Won’t open the spicy mustard jars for Oswald’s snacks? Pff ridiculous! At least Edward can reach for the cabinets, and he can even open jars if his hands are not too sweaty,

Edward was still an excellent cook, even after all of these years and even with an excessive amount of broken bones he still managed to prepare a delicious dessert for Martin so he wouldn’t miss his Papa too much.

Five minutes into their meal and it started to thunder and Martin whimpered, Edward rubbed his back and set the table for the two who would be eating, Martin at the head of the table and Edward on his old seat, the first one to the head’s right.

It was a good thing the curtains were still open and the sky, despite being stormy was still strangely bright, because at least they weren’t in total darkness when the lights went out. Martin’s hand holding his because he was scared and with his free hand Ed reached to pull out his cell phone from his pocket, using the screen’s light to brighten the place a little.

After eating their meal in a hurry Ed went to look around for candles to light since Martin was refusing to leave his side and then they went upstairs to Martin’s bedroom since it was almost bedtime and Edward wasn’t about to disobey Oswald strict rules on that matter.

“You see that little antennae over there?” Edward asked as they looked out the window to watch the thunderstorm, he pointed at the neighbour’s roof. “That’s a lightning conductor, it’s a big copper or aluminium rod and it attracts the lightning so we’re safe, since it tends to strike the highest point, that being it’s quickest way to reach earth. Isn’t that neat?”

By twenty two fifteen Ed got to shutting the curtains and ensuring that there were no drafts coming from the windows, then tucking him in nicely, Edward the dog already curled up in a ball by his feet.

And then Ed limped back to his bedroom next doors, sitting on his bed with one of his old books, digging into it while sheltered under his well-layered blanket system. One or two hours went by like this, just Edward and his novel and the sky taking out its fury on Gotham City.

Ed wasn’t one to fancy romances, his favourite genre was definitely non-fiction but he’d found the book on his nightstand and on the second page he found a dedication signed for him by Oswald with the date of two years prior, back when the Penguin still fancied him...

Quite the bold move of him, Ed had to say. Now that he’d read it with more attention, he could see why Oswald had thought it would be a good idea. The character’s love story and their love story they had parallels that he could only see now, things that Thomas had said to Constance in the hope of courting her, the same ones he’d said to him. Oh. That was just endearing. It made him blush.

It still astounded Ed that Oswald’s affection flew right over his head at the time, so much that his friend had to give him the book where he was getting all his moves from, in the hope that Ed would see it then. But he never picked up the book with all the troubles the campaign for the election. Pity.

He yawned and put down his book for a second, looking out the window to see the blue flashes of light in the sky, followed after by loud thunder. And even if that left him uneasy, he still adored the way the lightning zig zagged over the clouds. He didn’t even mind that the thunder had him read from the candle light, it even made him feel like an old librarian that lived surrounded by books!

He couldn’t blame Martin for being scared, the thunder was getting closer and the storm more aggressive now. If Ed had been in his place, just a child with no one to comfort him, he’d have also been scared. But definitely he’d fell more betrayed, having his dad choose his boyfriend over him and all...

Well, at least Oswald trusted Ed enough to take care of his son, that must be something right?

The wind made the windows slam against each other with its force and the rain splashed on the cement floor outside and just when Edward turned back to his book he heard a soft knock on the door,

“Martin?” Ed asked, and then the young boy pushed through the door, holding Edward-the-dog close to his chest. He stood there for a second or two before placing the bulldog on the end of the bed and then going to the adult, getting under his blankets and holding on to him.

“What’s going on Martin, is it the storm? You want to stay here?” He asked, moving to give the boy space to lay on, yet the boy was still clinging to him, nodding.

Ed moved the candle to better light that side of the room and he could finally see Martin’s face, cheeks red and tears streaming, panting for breath. He took no time to get on his lap, and then moving to get his cell phone that he immediately used to open the text editor app to write. “I want Papa!”

“He’s on a date, sweetheart.” Edward said, rubbing the boy’s back with one hand as with the other he put away his book and rubbed his tired face.

“But I want Papa! “ He wrote below, shuddering when the thunder echoed in the room. “Its just thunder.” Ed tried to relax him. “Just a little bit of excess electricity in the clouds. Just that.”

Maybe the reason why he liked Martin so much was that he could see parts of himself in him, the scared boy, the bullied boy, the exceptionally clever yet misunderstood boy...

“Can you call Papa?” Martin wrote in a new line. He sure was insistent but Ed couldn’t blame him, he just wanted his dad back. So Ed did what was asked, choosing Oswald from his favourite contacts – a very empty list of contacts – and then dialled, it rang only twice.

“Martin, is that you?” Oswald asked, he could heard the chatter of the restaurant’s clients in the background.

“It’s us, Martin’s very scared and he asked to call you.” Edward said, rubbing the boy’s back– who was still clinging to him and even if his bones were hurting he still didn’t push the boy away.

“Edward don’t leave his side, I’m on my way my boy.” Oswald decided.

“What, you’ve got to be kidding me, it’s date night Oswald!” They could hear Michael protesting.

And then Oswald hung up, right when another lighting bolt came crashing down, the boy whimpered and hid his head against Edward’s chest. Unsure of how to proceed he tried. “Dad is on his way, Martin. Until then we could play a game, would you like that?”

The child shook his head no and then flipped the phone open once again to write. “Do you have any plans to break them up?”

Ed frowned at that. “Of course not, your dad is happy and it’s our job as his friends to respect that. He can be with whoever he wants to be, even if we don’t exactly see whatyour dad sees in Michael.”

“When Papa saw you with Isabelle he didn’t think like that. He wanted you for himself and that’s what he tried to get, even if it didn’t work out in the end. So why don’t you try to break dad Michael up? It would only be fair...” Martin wrote, making himself more comfortable on his lap.

“First of all, her name was IsabellA, with an A, your father used to make that samemistake. Second, I told him that if he truly loved me he’d have to let me go because at least he knew that I was happy. Or at least I thought so, but after the past year, I’ve never even thought about her...” Ed admitted. “I was so focused on proving my wits to your dad and to myself that I forgot what was my cause.”

The boy went back to the name with the cursor and the replaced the E in Isabelle with an A and then added. “Then why not break them up...”

“He’s happy Martin, it’d be hypocritical of me to stop his happiness just because we want him for ourselves.”

“But then you’d both be happy.” Martin wrote.

“Martin, I’m not a very good partner. To be honest, I have quite the terrible record...” Edward said, smiling when all the talking seemed to have tired the boy out. “I would never forgive myself if the other me did anything to your dad.”

“The other you?” Martin asked, clearly very confused but also very sleepy, he got off his lap and laid down close, closing his eyes only to have Ed covering him with his blanket.

“Now that’s a story for tomorrow.” Ed said in a whisper. “Now you have to sleep, it seems that the storm is finally going away but you can still stay until your dad gets here.”

Poor Martin was too tired to complain, he just dropped the phone on the mattress and barely managed a nod before he was asleep.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Oswald was sitting next to Edward crying on his shoulder, he held his friend until he could discover what exactly had happened.

“We are taking some time apart, he wasn’t happy that you and Martin keep ruining our dates.” He said. “But the two of you will always be my priorities. Hell he knew what he was getting himself into!”

“I’m sorry Oswald.” And he really was, how dare Michael break his heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, thanks for reading.


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea what medical-realism is and at this point I'm too scared to find out. hope you can overlook some little details regarding that.

Between his anger, his panicking and his discomfort at all the emotion he was feeling Oswald rolled over into his arms, unsure of what to do and in the middle of all the chaos flying all over his head he returned to the one thing his mother used to do whenever Ed was sadder in his first years of life, she’d kiss his head and hold him close, so he did just that, kissed his friend’s forehead and then held onto him a little tighter. “Sleep.”

“I miss him.” The man said weakly, trying to protest over Edward’s shushing. Then reaching for his phone that was stored on the inside of his still wet jacket “Maybe if I apologize…”

OH NO. Oh no no!

“You absolutely won’t!” Ed admonished him, plucking the phone from his hands and deleting the message that Oswald had started to write, shutting the phone down and then putting it away, getting back to holding onto him, letting Os tuck his face under his chin, his nose was so cold, his hair humid from the rain and his breath stunk of alcohol. “You’ve been drinking.” He pointed out.

“Wine.” Oswald responded, devilish smile on his lips.

“And just that?” Edward continued, already reaching for his nightstand to give him water to drink.

“Definitely just wine, yes Eddie just wine.” Oswald sat up and took a big gulp, then mumbling a “Just a wine bottle…”

“You are impossible.” The younger of the two said with an amused smile, fluffing Oswald’s pillows and scooting over in order to create space for his friend to lay down on, it was a tight squeeze for the two of them because of Martin already occupying the other half of the bed but Ed guessed it was alright, it was cold after all, why not cuddle for warmth and comfort… “Can you change into your pyjamas; you’d be more comfortable in softer clothes.” It wasn’t a question, more of an order masked into a request.

And so Oswald went to his room to get changed into something dryer and more comfortable, and despite not having been invite – not that he wasn’t welcome there anyways – he slid under the covers, where Martin and Ed were already under.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Edward risked, he sure did know that for his own case he’d rather not, but Os was his best friend and best friends were there for each other – Like he was when Lee dumped Ed’s sorry ass.

“There’s not much to say. He wanted attention that I couldn’t give to him, my son and my business will always be my first priorities. I couldn’t possibly give more of me to him.” Oswald confessed, rolling back over and throwing an arm around Edward’s body, with the younger man taking his time to evaluate whether or not he should hold the crime boss closer, he sure did seem to need it right now after all.

“You did the right thing, don’t worry. What exactly was he expecting after all?” Ed tried, wondering if he had chosen the right words, the right thing to say, always fearing to come out dry and emotionless, apathetic.

“He wanted me to leave the business to my manager, just for a couple of days and to leave Martin to you and Olga so Michael and I could have a little fun time at our safe house outside the city. You get it, just the two of us…” Ed did get it and he wasn’t happy about it. “And I said no, and then when he got frustrated, I panicked and suggested that we take a little time apart, he’s been so impossible and needy lately, I just didn’t know what to do.”

“Even if it may be hurting you right now, I think you’ve done the right thing.”  Ed tried to reassure him, not so sure of what to say. “Maybe some time apart will help you reconsider what is it that you want, and help Michael see what he wants as well.”

Was this even the right thing to say?

At least Oswald didn’t seem to have a bad reaction, instead he just mumbled “Hold me” and then in no time his friend was snoring in his arms, well asleep and in record time.

* * *

 

When Ed wakes up Oswald, Martin and even the bulldog were still asleep, Oswald all nestled up against his neck, where a stream of drool started to run, only to pool on his shirt. His muscles feel terrible and he feels far from well-rested because of how little he had slept but somehow he still felt strangely alright.

He then reached for his book, the one from last night and the one that sat on the nightstand, after all there was no point in being lazy and hoping for more sleep, and if he had to be honest with himself Ed was rather eager to go on reading the romance Oswald had offered him all those years ago, secretly hoping for more romantic inspiration or at least enlightening, but it would be nice to reminisce about how nice it had felt to have the King of Gotham’s undivided attention.

After hours and hours and a handful of romantic kisses share by the main characters in the romance Oswald finally woke up, rubbing his eyes and immediately moaning about how bad his head hurt, caring and attentive as ever Ed already had him covered, quickly shoving a glass of water into his hands as he took out the painkillers from the drawer, and then Os was just there, laying down and starring at the ceiling, breathing slow as Ed fussed over him, not wanting him to suffer much.

Half an hour later it was Martin’s turn to wake up, he found it odd to have woken up in a different place, taking his time to remember that no he hadn’t been kidnapped again and that yes he’d gone to Edward last night, and apparently so did Papa. Was Papa also scared of the storm? But then Michael would be there for him and he wouldn’t have to be with Ed, in his bed, especially if he had a boyfriend.

“Where is Michael?” Martin wrote, crawling over Ed and laying down between the adults, where the bed was warmer.

“Hell if I know.” Oswald spat, shrugging and before his boy could ask what had happened he went on “Michael and I had a little fight and I told him he could go sleep somewhere else until he was ready to apologise for being an idiot.

Ed could see that glow, a very evil-looking one, in his eyes, like he was happy that Michael was gone for a while even if his dad wasn’t. He tried to stop whatever Martin had planned, glaring at him to try and keep him from spilling the beans, after all Oswald was already hurt enough, and he didn’t need anything else to worsen it.

After some moments of silence Oswald sat up and stretched, “How about we do something really fun today?” Oswald asked the boy, who immediately looked up from his hiding place and started nodding enthusiastically. “Pool day, would you like that, my son?”

Martin nodded once again, quickly getting out of bed in order to go and get ready for swimming.

“Truth is.” Oswald started, once he heard the Martin’s bedroom closet door creaking open. “My leg hurts from the cold weather yesterday, the water ought to help…”

Ed sat up, placing his arm around his friend’s back and rubbing his hand against his side, trying to comfort him. “How’s the hangover.”

“Terrible.” Oswald responded lazily, placing his head on Edward’s shoulder and making himself more comfortable.

“Told you.” Edward teased.

“You butt.”

And then Martin was at the door with his arms crossed, clearly not happy that they were still in bed while he was ready.

“Let me see if I can find something for you to wear in Michael’s closet, you two are about the same waist size and I’m sure that he wouldn’t mind, not that I’m asking.” Oswald said, motioning for Ed to follow him into the master bedroom.

He tried walking normally, careful with his toe at first but then he noticed that it barely hurt and since it wasn’t wrapped in cast he could probably dip at least his legs in the interior pool and join the fun for once.

The taller of the two was handed a green pair of trunks as Oswald smirked knowingly, sure okay Michael’s junk probably touched the lining where his junk would also be touching, but at the same time it was his only opportunity to have fun with his practically single best friend.

He went back to his room and started changing, leaving on his undershirt and changing to the pretty pair of baggy short and keeping his undershirt, Oswald wouldn’t mind right? And it’s not like he’s going to be swimming anyways, just keeping his friends company… Maybe Os would be curious to see him a bit more naked now that he was pretty much single and that could not happen. Not because he doesn’t want the attention, but more because as soon as Oswald did so he would find out just how ugly and disgusting Ed actually is under all the layers of clothes.

Once he was ready, Edward made his way to the back garden where the big building with the semi-Olympic sized pool was. His friends were already there, Martin digging out some toys from the storage closet and Oswald sitting on the pool’s stairs, eyes closed and wine glass in hand. He walked to the older man’s side, trying the temperature with his hand first and then dipping his legs in slowly, his friend placing an arm on his lower back and offering him a sip from the glass.

He accepted it reluctantly, trying to show to Oswald that he wasn’t so happy that he was back to consuming more alcohol, but he stubbornly insisted and Ed had no choice but to let it, Os was a grown man after all and if that’s how he chose to deal with his disagreement with Michael then so be it. He lent into his friend’s space, trying to be of comfort as much as his broken body would allow.

It sure was comfortable there, from time to time the former mayor would swim laps around the pool and Martin and Ed would play with the toys and they would be a happy sort-of-family, like good and happy sort-of-families do.

Never before Edward had felt so at home. Even if he knew that there was nothing binding him to this family, for some reason he still wanted to stay. Martin had Oswald not by blood but he was still his son and his protégée, Oswald had Michael sort of. And Ed could be the honorary riddle uncle? No, that didn’t seem right…

Hell, even his other self, the very evil one that always keeps getting him in trouble, seemed to be having fun with them, splashing around in the pool – and he didn’t seem to have any broken bones which was terribly unfair! Maybe that was his brain telling him that maybe it’s time he quits playing the nice guy.

* * *

 

By lunch time, when Martin had gone to the kitchen to ask for sandwiches and apple juice, Oswald used their alone time for less dignified things like keeping his hands real close to Ed’s behind – which if he had to be truthful he did quite like that part – and saying things like ‘your hair curls adorably with the humidity’ as he ran his wet fingers along his hair, or ‘Green really does suit you,’ or ‘Wish you could come and have a swim with us’ and all those things were alright, he didn’t mind them, but then Oswald who, in his drunk state, was starting to feel a bit more braver, he asked the one thing he didn’t want to be asked “What’s with the undershirt?”

Well Ed could have easily lied and taken his secret to the grave and no one would have known but for some strange reason he felt compelled to let someone in for once, after all it’s not like he hadn’t already trusted Oswald with his secrets… And so he grabbed his friend’s hand by the wrist and guided it under his shirt, letting his cold wet hand feel the rough scars on his stomach.

“What is this?” Oswald asked, the goofy smile on his lips vanishing immediately, his expression suddenly too somber for a man under the influence of alcohol. “Who did this to you?”

“My father, years ago.” Ed replied, pushing Oswald’s hands away as he had started to stroke his fingers along the bumpy scarred skin.

“I will-” The smaller man started only to be shushed by Edward next.

“No you won’t. I lost track of him, but if you want my educated guess I’d say he’s roaming from bar to bar, trying to dissolve his liver in alcohol.” Edward spat, backing away and shoving the hem of his shirt into his short’s waistband as if he was trying to say ‘ _please let’s not talk about this anymore_.’

Oswald pulled the taller man into a hug. “I’m so sorry Eddie.”

“It’s okay…” He mumbled, starring over Oswald’s shoulder as his chin rested there, truth was it really wasn’t okay…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is really appreciated and comments are my fuel, thanks for reading.


	10. 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a late night update of a very short chapter,  
> after this one is when things start to get more interesting as we get near the end of the story.   
> I'm also slowly rewriting and fixing up the pesky mistakes I've over looked in the previous chapters.

When they finally returned to the manor, the two Cobblepot took turns having a shower to wash the chlorine off. Edward however did not have that luxury, so he tried his best to keep his cast dry while attempting the stunt of washing his legs with the clean water. And soon enough, they were all dapper once again, even Martin was wearing a little bowtie!

After his shower, Eddie made his way to the kitchen where the other two already were, the younger eating sandwich and the older, wrapped in a plush royal purple jacket, making himself a good cup of coffee.

The silence was the strangest thing. Not that he expected anything else from Martin, but the fact that Oswald’s coffee suddenly seemed more interesting than talking to his best friend made him think that there was something off. Just as Ed feared he had managed to make everything awkward back in the pool…

Edward invited himself to sit down on the round table with his buddy Martin and he just watched Oswald closely as the older man starred out the window with his cup of tea in hand, nice and warm and perfect to match with the cold day outside.

Actually, it was a good thing that Oswald was finally trying to sober up with the coffee. It worried him endlessly the amount of alcohol Os ingested whenever he was left unwatched. But maybe those were just the ghosts of his past… Worrying for Martin because whenever he saw a father and alcohol, those two added up and only caused trouble for the child. From his experience. But he had been an unwanted child and on top of that a disappointment. Thankfully, he can rest assured that Oswald loved his son to the ends of the earth.

“Can we go to the bird shelter?” Once Oswald joined them at the table, Martin wrote down, the cherry jam from his sandwich giving him a cute moustache.

“Of course my boy.” He said with a chuckle, grabbing one of the napkins and wiping the red jam away from his face. “We’ve never taken our lovely guest to see the bird shelter and if he feels alright enough then maybe we could show him around…”

Well at least he had been called lovely, he sure did love being called endearing names. Really, Edward adored it immensely, basking in the attention like a proud peacock and when he had finally returned back to the real world Martin was already putting on his little bright blue rain boots because of all the puddles in the garden.

Once that was out of the way, he grabbed Edward’s hand and gave it a tug so they’d go faster and so the boy practically dragged the adult across the garden until they were by yet another building.

Pushing the door open, the two of them were greeted with happy chirping and singing. And there were a lot of birds flying around, Ed counted eight very quickly, in various colours and sizes.

“It’s mostly animals that people have abandoned and Martin takes them in and gives them a home so they can get better.” Oswald smiled and placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder, he was clearly a proud father, and with a reason.

Oswald sneaked off to go see his beloved penguins, Benedict and Timothy if Edward remember right – and he always does. They squeaked and yapped for treats and cuddles. And like Ed had already witnessed before, the Penguin (the crime boss, not one of the real ones) was petting their heads and hugging them close when they’d hold out their arms for him, like they were his little babies. It was amusing to watch. The former mayor clearly loved them a lot.

Even Edward gave them a few pets after some insistence coming from Oswald, he had to admit that they were sweet despite being cold and stinking like fish a bit too much for his taste.

After Martin ensured everyone had food and water to drink, they went back home before the sky would start pouring, as it had been threatening to do all morning long. Martin goes ahead, running home, where it was warm and where his dog Edward already awaited him.

Eddie was on his way inside, already dreaming of the warmth that the fireplace irradiated, when Oswald placed a hand on his elbow that had him stop. “Can we talk? Just go for a walk…” Oswald said, glancing at the door to ensure that Martin was safe inside. Ever the careful dad…

“Sure.” The taller man replied, letting Oswald hook his arm into his good one, as the two walked down the garden.

“I’d like to apologise for my behaviour back there, it was not my business to ask such things and I’ve ended up making it even worse when I didn’t react appropriately to the situation at hand. I feel bad I touched the subject, but I am happy that you trust me enough to have told me something like that.” Oswald said, looking up at his friend. “I was in no state to think properly but my curiosity must have hurt you and for that I want to say I’m sorry. You’re my best friend, Eddie.”

Edward shook his head and pulled Oswald close with his one good arm, grunting when his bones hurt. At least his friend’s embrace was warm and comfortable and somehow made the most it almost feel alright. “You’re my best friend as well Oswald, and I forgive you.”

Os smiled and pulled back only when the rain drops started to fall on his face. “Let’s go in, I have to check my phone for any call I might have missed when I was with you.” He sighed dramatically. “Who knows, maybe Michael finally got his head out of his ass and decided to apologise.”

And that gave Ed a brilliant idea, he was growing tired of being good anyways. It was about time he had a little fun and started to work on his revenge for Michael, he wanted his disgrace and would settle for no less.

“Attaboy” His evil self said, as he followed Oswald inside, readying himself to sit by the fireplace and warm up again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading.


	11. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies if the chapter sucks, I've been drowning in tests but I still have to post something so this is what I could put together during this one lecture because I was bored. we are nearing the end of the story and in the next couple of chapters a lot is going to happen.

In the afternoon Oswald found Ed struggling to read his newspaper one-handed, clearly amused with it, he rest against the side of the chair. “What’s got you all smiling?” Edward asked, lowering his newspaper.

“Just heard some great news.” He stated, taking the seat close to him and then biting his lip. “Would you like to know about them?”

He tried a polite smile, folding his newspaper on the puzzle page and leaving it on the coffee table. “If it makes you so happy…”

“They’re throwing a party, in my honour!” Oswald announced, proud grin on his face. “Oh it’s going to be lovely!”

“That’s great Oswald.” Edward responded, looking at his friend with an honest and interested smile, even if he had had to abandon his puzzle for his friend.

“It’s tonight you see, but the telegram just arrived today. I must prepare myself but for now I have a very big problem.” Oswald admitted, sitting next to Ed and placing one hand on his thigh. “And I hate to ask, but I’ve been bragging to the girls about this wonderful boyfriend that I have found for myself but they have never seen him. They’ll think that I have lied and I can’t have that, not on my night.”

Edward’s eyes finally met with his friend’s “You haven’t asked anything…”

“Hold on Eddie, I’m getting to it.” He shushed him and gave his knee a soft pat. “I need your advice.”

Ed gave a nod, pushing his glasses up his nose with his good hand and Oswald proceeded. “I have two options, I apologise to Michael and beg him to come with me, and he already knows how to behave you see… Or I can hire some prostitute to accompany me tonight and have him pretend to be my boyfriend but then I’ll have no guarantee that he’ll behave…”

Grabbing both of the older man’s hands in his Edward asked “Who is staying with Martin?”

“He’ll have a sleepover at his best friend’s house, don’t worry about him but I really need your help…” Penguin insisted.

“Then take me to the party.” Ed smirked proudly. That was just perfect, there is no way that he’d let Michael get anywhere close to his friend again and even if the idea of just some hired prostitute did sound better it was still not enough for him.

“Eddie that’s sweet, but you’d need to be my boyfriend.”

He had made plans, told himself that for Oswald’s own good he’d be kept away from Michael and to do so his friend has to fall in love with him once again (it had happened before, it’s not like it’s impossible or anything…), if he’s in love with him he won’t miss his disgusting ex right?

“I don’t mind Oswald, in fact I have been told that I’m an excellent actor and I do not lack the charisma for such a role, as you know.” He teased. “What other option do you have?” His smile let Edward know that he had won and that he had gotten what he wanted.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright? There may be small talk and loud music and you’ve never been fond of those settings even when you were my chief of staff and we had all those events to attend…” the former mayor trailed off.

“I’ll be alright.”

“Even if you have to hold my hand sometimes?” He raised an eyebrow probably thinking that he can still stop Ed. He wants this! Can’t Oswald see it? He really does, not just because he wants Michael to go away, he wants to hold his hand and be someone to the Penguin even if just for the night.

“You know it’ll be alright, but if for any reason, you or I need anything then we can set up a safe word and we’ll take a moment and fix everything.” He tried a smile, giving Oswald’s hands a squeeze, how could his friend fear that he’d be repulsed to hold his hand when they were already doing so without realizing?

“Be a dear and get me more rose wine.’” Oswald decided quickly.

Edward grinned, very excited that he had been chosen over Michael. And then his friend had his arms tight around him, quick to reciprocate he let his head lean against Oswald’s. “Thank you so much, Eddie.”

* * *

It was hard to find something for Edward to wear that didn’t make him look awfully skinny, his old clothes didn’t quite fit him that well anymore but Oswald had someone over to fix him a suit to wear that night.

He had first meant to wear a green and covered in glitter dust suit but decided against it because Oswald was the star of the night, not Ed, and the last thing he wanted was to steal the attention.

And so there he was, sitting on the limousine next to Oswald. “You look handsome.” Edward complimented. The man truly had outdone himself, something hard to do due to the fact that Os already dressed himself so dapper and pristine from day to day and now he couldn’t help but watch mesmerised as Oswald checked his business phone, or as he retouched the blush on his cheeks. Ed found that his friend and now pretend-boyfriend somehow looked like a hot vampire from Transylvania.

“You’re starring at me.” Oswald pointed out with a grin. “If you think that the makeup is a bit too much you can just say it…”

“No Oswald, it’s not that. It’s precisely the opposite, you look wonderful.” And he could see how nervously his fingers played with his walking cane or how his friend attempted to bite down his smile or his cheeks tinting just a bit despite all the makeup.

“Oh Eddie, you’re quite the flatterer.” Oswald tried a smirk and placed one hand over his. “Maybe I should consider making our arrangement for tonight more lasting, so you can keep massaging my ego.”

Was he teasing him? What did that mean?

“You look wonderful my darling, I wish everyday there was a party so we could both look lovely and be together.” Now it was Ed’s turn to blush, he truly did look handsome for a change. The green hadn’t changed, – how could it, if it had become his trademark? – however the shade this time was a bit darker and more discreet, his dress shirt was velvety and dark with purple highlights and his hair was neatly combed to the side, the way that he knew that Oswald preferred. To avoid a scandal, his broken wrist had been covered with a pair of dark leather gloves, and the small scar on his forehead with a few coats of make-up. The rest of his injuries were well hidden enough and he was pretty sure he could last the remaining of the night at that party, as long as he doesn’t have to stand for long periods of time.

Then they arrived at the old palace. It had been turned into a venue for parties and events and it felt straight out of fairy tale, it didn’t even stink like sewer – something impressive for Gotham.

The two were elegantly late, and after Edward helped his date out of the car, like a true gentleman, Oswald fixed Ed’s tie, setting it straight. “Are you sure you’ll be alright? If you want we can still turn back, I really don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Ed sighed fondly and moved to fix Oswald’s tie instead. “Why would I be uncomfortable? We’ve done this before…”

“Yes but it’s because now you have to hold my hand.” Oswald pointed, waving his hand around so Ed would understand where he was getting at…

“I don’t mind Oswald, I just don’t want the girls to make fun of you.” Edward tried to reassure him, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “See?”

“I see, friend.” Oswald only blinked at him, almost reactionless.

“Ah!” He smirked and waved a finger around. “ _Boyfriend_.”

“You got me there, _boyfriend_ , now let’s get inside.” Oswald hooked an arm into his and walked inside, big grin on his lips.

* * *

The palace inside was magnificent, the party surely had a theme going on, “Oh, Martin would have loved it here.” Oswald whispered as he explored the place. There were penguins, igloos and ice and the drinks even had little umbrellas. Though the music was far too loud for Ed’s taste, he still tolerated it so he could make his _boyfriend_ happy. “There’s even an icy dance floor, Eddie we have to try it out after dinner!”

Soon a group of women, approached them, they seemed to know Oswald and they were quick to fawn over the couple. “Oh Ozzie, you didn’t tell me your boyfriend was so tall and handsome.” They said at some point, Ed could have listened further but small talk wasn’t exactly his forte, especially when Oswald’s hand was around his waist, pulling him closer as he chatted with the three women.

He wasn’t good at being quiet though, not talking unless he was talked to and surely not annoying everyone with his stupid riddles (that part was the hardest). It seemed that he was great at being an arm candy, hot enough but not so much that other guests perceived him as a brainless piece of ass. Eddie was also great at convincing others that his boyfriend was the centre of his world, he’d hold doors for him and pull chairs too, find drinks, hold hands and do everything that Os might want. It made him shiver in delight when Oswald would smile back at him.

Even after dinner, just after dessert Edward kissed the Penguin on the corner of his lips before he left to find them more punch. With his lips still tingling and heart pounding against his chest, Oswald there was left there, almost stuck to the fake icy floor before he managed to go chase Edward, grabbing his hand and pulling him into one of the closets. “But Oswald there’s no rose wine here.” Ed pointed out.

Os tried to hold back his smile because Edward had remembered (of course he had!) but then he had something to say “Eddie you’ve been lovely all night, but I just don’t understand why go so far.”

“It’s simple. These are all things that good boyfriends do” Edward pointed out, clearly confused, wasn’t this what his _boyfriend_ had meant with _holding_ _hands_ before he trailed off? “I was only trying to be good.” Now he just felt stupid.

“It’s no problem, my dear Eddie, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Oswald smile had grown, it calmed him. “So I did okay?”

“You did.” He grabbed Edward’s head with his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Now let’s go back before Bethanie has any reasons to think that we have been making out in the closet.”

* * *

The party had lasted until late in the night and as soon as they were home they headed straight to Oswald’s bed.

Ed was nervous, all he could think about was the night he had just had. How nice it felt to hold his hand, even if his fingers were far too cold. How he had somehow found the courage to kiss Oswald. How they were laying down together even if it wasn’t necessary. All the attention he got from him despite Oswald having other guests to attend to…

“Eddie you’re thinking too loud.” Oswald complained, turning and grabbing his _boyfriend_ – no, scratch that, it’s back to just friend, just because they were sharing his bed it still meant nothing – and pulling him closer.

Maybe Edward is just drunk? That would explain all the funky tingling. He had never been that great at handling his alcohol, had he? It didn’t matter anyways, even if he’s thinking too much into it – which he definitely was – at least he was sure that this was really happening. “Sorry, Oswald.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, thanks for reading.


	12. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the nearly month-long wait, uni got in the way and all that. It's not as perfect as I would have liked it to be but I do plan on giving it a clean up later on.

The morning after Edward found himself alone, no sight of Oswald upstairs. It was strange, normally Ed was the early bird, and he reached to touch his friend’s side of the bed. It was cold, therefore his friend had been awake for a long while.

Then he heard the front door. “How would you fancy helping me put together a breakfast for Eddie, Martin?” Edward couldn’t hold back his grin, eventually having to bite it down as he quickly screwed his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

Ed counted the minutes on his watch, waited precisely 25 minutes in bed before rolling off bed and going to get changed, taking his time getting ready and then heading downstairs to the kitchen where he found Oswald putting together a breakfast for the three of them. Martin sat on his table, playing with his video game console, it seemed that Oswald had gone to pick up the boy from his sleepover while Edward was still asleep.

The crumpets with butter that the two had cooked for him were delicious, but not as great as when Oswald placed one arm around his back and leant his head against his shoulder, and their eyes met for a few seconds. “Thank you.” Oswald mouthed and that led Edward to the conclusion that yes, the occasion for the special breakfast was indeed the party from the night before, his friend wanted to say thank you.

After the banquet, Edward went outside to go and find himself a newspaper to solve the crosswords from but when he walked into the living room, newspaper folded under his arm and pen in hand, he stumbled into Oswald, puppy sitting on his lap as he petted her soft brown fur, the conversation seemed to have been going for a while now. “Oh Edward, yesterday was just wonderful, I don’t even know who to tell.”

Ed stopped, backed up and hid behind the wall, listening closely. Last night… That was last night! As in the night that they spent together. And Oswald thought that it had been wonderful too! The anticipation to hear more was so great that he even held his breath, waiting for more to come from Oswald’s mouth. “We even danced! And kissed and there was wine and those little cheese appetisers you know I love!”

He picked the doggy up and set her by the big window, kissing her wrinkly forehead and sitting her on the fluffy bed. “Ed must be here soon, be a good girl, no biting!”

That has to be his queue, he entered the living room and before he can even form a plan of action Oswald is already inviting him to sit on the couch by the fireplace. “Is that today’s newspaper? We could solve a puzzle together…”

Oh Oswald, the six words Edward had longed to hear for as long as he has been alive.

He even gave him the pen, so he wouldn’t hog the puzzles and do it all by himself and they sat together, entertained with the game page for a few hours, snuggled together under the warmth of the fireplace.

The two of them ended up spending a peaceful afternoon at home. _Who knew solving puzzles could actually be fun when you’re a grown up_ , Oswald thought to himself and it turns out Os is not that bad at them, who could even imagine!? And yes he can tell that Edward is definitely holding himself back from screaming the answers but the older man can surely appreciate his effort can’t he? Oh he’s so pretty when he shoves his glasses up his nose nervously or when he looks at him expectantly…

Get yourself together Cobblepot!

It was about dinner time when the doorbell rung, Martin should be upstairs still studying and they were still downstairs, snuggled together like they were a real couple.

When Oswald removed his arm from around him it was then that he noticed the heat that the two of them have generated just from being together. The temperature shock even gave him the chills as he stood up and fixed his sweater straight and went to see who was it that came to knock on the door at such ungodly hours.

“I saw the news, Oswald.” A man said, but that voice... Edward knew that cocky stupid voice! Michael! “What the hell Oswald! Former mayor Oswald Cobblepot shows Gotham his new boyfriend and old chief of staff Edward Nygma.”

Ed turns the corner and goes to the door, standing behind his friend, trying to understand what was going on.

“You!” Michael shouted, pointing his finger straight at Edward and as he advanced Edward retreated until he was backed up against the wall, eyes wide and arms raised as he tried to get some space between himself and Michael. “You stole my man, _Edward_!” He had never thought to be possible for his name to be spat out so harshly.

“Now gentleman, I think that we ought to behave civilly.” Oswald stepped in, grabbing Michael by the collar of his scratchy dark blue sweater and pulling him away from poor Ed. “Michael, understand this. I am not your man and never have been before, the fact that we are intimate does not give you the right to call me your possession. Secondly, get off poor Edward, look at him you’re scaring him!”

The taller man could finally take a deep breath and compose himself once again, stepping to the side so he could have the safe barrier of Oswald in between them. “What do you want? I know very well that I don’t like to be bothered before dinner.”

“What do I want?!” Michael repeated. “I want to know what happened to, just taking some time apart and what is it that you keep seeing in bean pole over here? He has hurt you before and will do it again, trust me. Don’t come to me crying then, since it seems that I never truly mattered, did I? Go on, say it!”

“Michael that’s such nonsense.” Oswald shook his head, clearly not drunk enough to deal with all this mess. “I took you in when you needed and I’ve always cared for you dearly.”

“But not enough to love me, or to forget Ed…”

“Michael I-” Oswald could see the tears forming in his eyes, he was starting to feel a very strange feeling in his belly. Was it pitty?

“I’m not even good at being a rebound guy.” Michael cried and his broken voice started to feel like it was slowly carving a hole on his stomach.

He tried to pull himself together. “Where are you staying?” Oswald asked, the soft part of him wanting to ensure that even if they weren’t together, this man, who was still very important to him, was at least staying in a safe place.

“Church, sleeping with the homeless.” Michael responded, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Poor thing.” Oswald said, reaching out to touch his face. “What happened to staying with William?”

“He was having an orgy with seven women and I didn’t quite fancy staying the night.” He sighed and looked down at Oswald, placing one hand over his reluctantly.

“Would you like a place to stay, darling? I can make the arrangements, would an apartment downtown suffice?” Oswald asked, moving to wipe his tears.

“That would be nice…” Michael mumbled, sniffing like an overgrown baby throwing a tantrum.

“And where will you stay tonight?” Oswald asked, rubbing his back a little when he could see that the man was shivering from the cold outside, his thin jacket was drenched in water from the rain.

“Am counting on the orgy to have finally finished, if not then I’ll go find someplace else to stay.” Michael shrugged.

“Well, there’s no need for you to be out in the cold. You can have your old room if you can’t find someplace else to stay.” With a sigh then Oswald added. “Maybe find a change of clothes too, warmer and drier ones.”

He brushed his wet hair back and tried a smile that ended off bitter rather than reassuring. “So you’re with the bean pole now?”

Oswald’s little nod said everything despite no words coming from his mouth.

“So we’re through…” Michael concluded, pulling away from Oswald and right after pressing a goodbye kiss to Oswald’s cheek, he retrieved his overcoat from the coat hanger and then went away.

Edward watched him leave, from his place, still startled and half expecting him to come back and beat him up. “Well, that was a roller-coaster.”

“Agreed.” He heard Oswald mumble, the man was definitely shaken up by what had just happened and just how quickly everything had changed.

 “You said we were together.” Edward pointed out, and that was off because as far as he was concerned they weren’t together and if Michael had come all the way to Oswald then why lie?

“And we aren’t?” Oswald looked up at him, his blue eyes were glowing and he bit his lip down.

“I’m not saying we aren’t or that I don’t want to...” He trailed off trying to find the right words. “I just wasn’t aware that that change in our relationship had happened...”

“I just assumed that after last night. But that was wrong of me after all...”He sighed.

Edward smiled a bit and pulled Oswald closer, cupping his cheeks and going for a quick kiss. “Let’s go back inside.” He mumbled after, still unbelieving that he had gathered the courage to do it.

At least he had managed to make Oswald blush, and to have the man place his fingers over his own just kissed lips.

With Oswald once again in the couch, Edward learned of Michael’s backstory. Poor Michael had been kicked out by his very rich parents when they discovered that he fancied men, since he never finished high school he never found a job that paid him enough and so he lived on the streets and soon after Oswald found him, the Penguin was so endeared with Michael that he took him into his house.

They weren’t so different after all, he and Michael. They had both been turned away by their parents, and lived in the streets. He was starting to see the reason for all of his protectiveness for Oswald, because he had saved him, it wasn’t out of interest. Michael legitimately adored him.

When Oswald went to his office to sort some papers out, Edward found himself talking to Martin again. He didn’t seem happy.

“What’s gotten into you?” Martin wrote, the frown on his face was obvious. “I saw you two.” The young man added.

“Oh!” Edward grinned, finally happy to have some closure for them. “I have great news for us, I figured out our little Michael riddle, as you know I’m great at those, your dad won’t need that cocky bastard if he has me!”

He had solved the problem!

And Martin should be happy.

But if that’s so then why isn’t he happy?

In fact Martin seems to be just the contrary of that. He ripped a paper from his pad and wrote down some words and then handed the paper to Edward, then leaving to go to his bedroom.

The older of the two glances down at the paper in his hand, it read “If you don’t love him, then you’re playing him. You’re no good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are very appreciated. and so are kudos. thank you for reading.


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